Beautiful Monster
by JillRJohnson
Summary: BROOKE-centric with a lot of Peyton as well yall know me by now, right? . This deals with Victoria and my theory on why she's so dang mean to her beautiful daughter. CONTAINS VIOLENCE
1. Why is she so mean?

Author's Note: Okay…I'm putting "Put Your Records On" on hold because I have yet ANOTHER idea brewing. [I will continue with Witness though I got it based on this past week's episode of OTH [Don't Dream it's Over. It's BROOKE-centric and will obviously have Peyton in it as well as some other characters. The idea comes from wondering, "Why is Brooke's mom such a btch?????" Well…I have my theories…

**Beautiful Monster**

"Brooke!" Victoria Davis screeched across the store. Brooke jumped out of her skin. She hated when her mother was mad, which seemed to be constantly. Brooke wanted nothing more than to please her mom, to do everything Victoria wanted her to do.

"How can you be so stupid? Why did you order so many low-end products?" Victoria sniped holding a clipboard in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

Brooke fought the urge to cry. She had spent the majority of her adolescence, college years, and early twenties trying to make her mom love her, even a little. Every time she tried to make the woman proud she was awarded with a cut down.

"It's Tree Hill, mom…"

Victoria rolled her eyes, "Don't remind me, and do not call me mom…it's Victoria when we're conducting business."

The bells above the door chimed as Peyton walked in wearing her usual concert tee and jeans. Brooke's heart lightened up slightly at the sight of her best friend and roommate. Peyton smiled at Brooke and flashed Victoria a grin.

"Great," she looked pointedly at Brooke, "When you're done dealing with the garbage, let me know so we can work on your real life?"

Brooke looked to the ground apologetically as Peyton came closer. Peyton slapped her lightly on the upper arm, "Don't worry about it Brooke. I ignore your mom's jibes at me. I could care less…what does bother me though is that she can't give you the credit you're due, you know?"

Brooke shrugged, choosing not to worry about Victoria for the time-being, "What brings you by roomie?"

Peyton's face brightened, "Oh…well, guess who's about to sign a brand new act?"

"Lindsay?" Brooke grinned sarcastically.

"Funny, bitch." Peyton frowned, "No."

"Who's the act?" Brooke loved hearing about Peyton's business and loved even more seeing her friend's light up with the passion she held for it.

Peyton grinned again, "You're totally not going to believe it."

"I'll believe anything these days," Brooke's dimples deepened.

"Yours truly just signed…Jake Jagelski."

Brooke blinked twice before letting her smile cover her face again, "Are you kidding me?"

"Wouldn't kid about an ex-boyfriend with a kid," Peyton smirked, "What do you think?"

"If he's in town then we totally need to have a signing party at the river house?"

Peyton clapped, "Yay. I was so hoping you would say that. I've already called Nathan and Haley."

"What about Luke and Lindsay," Brooke felt bad that Peyton's heart always had to be broken for the benefit of keeping the peace. Brooke liked Lindsay but found her to be a bit on the side of fake. At least she knew that with Peyton, what she saw was what she got.

Peyton pretended to gag, "Yeah, yeah…I told Haley to invite them. Nathan's telling Skills and Mouth."

"Oh joy…like a high school reunion, right?" Brooke laughed. She loved her friends.

"Yep…okay. I better go get supplies."

"Oh…here," Brooke reached into her purse and took out her debit card. "Use this, you have the PIN number, right?"

"Brooke," Peyton shook her head, "You can't do that every time we do something, you know? Besides, my daddy just sent me some money."

Brooke laughed at Peyton's fake valleygirl accent when she said, "Daddy." She shoved the card in Peyton's hand, "I don't care if you won the lottery, it's business and we're celebrating. Now go."

Peyton took the card and put it in her pocket, "Thanks Brooke."

"Don't thank me yet. You'll be the one cleaning up."

"Yeah, yeah," Peyton waved and laughed as she left the store. Brooke watched her leave and felt good about her life for the first time that morning.

Victoria made her way to where Brooke stood, "She's just using you. She's using your money and your generosity."

"Victoria, why do you hate Peyton so much?" Brooke's heart broke around Victoria on a daily basis. "For that matter, why do you hate me so much?"

Victoria neither smiled nor frowned, she seemed indifferent, "One day, Brooke, you'll face the truth that you owe me everything. I've sacrificed a lot for you including my marriage to your father. That son of a bitch."

"What are you talking about, mom? What sacrifices?" Brooke really was confused. She hardly ever saw her parents when she was a teenager and she couldn't even remember when she was a smaller child.

"Oh really Brooke, you play innocent so well…too bad I know better."

With no further words, Victoria waked away leaving Brooke feeling sad and alone and even afraid. She had no idea what her mother was getting at, let alone what she could have ever done to make her mom hate her so much.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Brooke came home to a festive-looking house. Her feet were killing her and the day had been a long one, but the brightness in Peyton's eyes as the blonde hugged her hello lifted her spirits a little. She plopped onto the couch with a sigh.

"Hard day at work, honey?" Peyton asked as she came from the kitchen holding two wine glasses.

Brooke laughed at her false-domesticity, "Why yes sweetheart it was."

Peyton smiled, "Well your day's about to get better. Everyone will be here in an hour and Jake's bringing his guitar."

The thought thrilled Brooke. Still, her eyes were cast downward. She tried not to let Peyton read her, but she had never been able to hide herself from her best friend.

Peyton frowned, "What's wrong, B. Davis?"

Brooke held back tears, not wanting to ruin Peyton's night, "Just mommy issues. The usual, you know?"

"Brooke…don't do that."

Brooke looked at Peyton questioningly, "Do what?"

"Don't try to hide yourself from me. Don't hide the fact that you're hurting. Don't hide your tears. You don't have to do that with me."

"See. Why can't my mom be more like you?"

Peyton smiled, "Your mom could never be as cool as me, dude."

Brooke laughed a little through her now falling tears. Peyton tucked a strand of dark hair behind Brooke's ear, "Sweetie, why do you let her do that to you? Why do you let her treat you that way?"

"I don't know Peyton. I just can't shake the need for her approval. It's always been that way. It's always like I've been trying to make up for some mistake in the past, but I don't know what the mistake is, you know?"

Peyton hugged and held her friend wondering what it was that Victoria had over Brooke that kept the brunette begging for forgiveness and acceptance. "Well, for tonight, forget your mom. You have me, and the whole gang will be here and you know that we already accept you, unconditionally."

"Yeah," Brooke swiped at a few tears, "yeah, you're right. But Peyton I swear if I don't get to the bottom of why my mom is so evil I'm going to go medieval on her snotty ass."

"Selling tickets?" the voice behind them startled them both. Jake stood there, guitar case in one hand and a dozen roses in the other.

Brooke's heart instantly rose with happiness, "Jake!"

She screeched like a high school as she jumped off the couch and hugged him. Peyton watched and was glad that Brooke had her, and that she had Brooke.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The get-together had been so much fun that they hadn't said goodbye to Jake, Haley and Nathan until almost 1am. They had spent time swapping stories about high school, and Jake told them how big Jenny had gotten.

Brooke hugged Peyton goodnight and then went to her own room. She left the door open. She shook her head with amusement as she realized she had done that since she was a teenager. If she was alone in her room, she left the door open. A cold chill passed over her and she shivered. She shrugged it off and crawled into her queen-sized bed, comforted by the fact that Peyton was just down the stairs.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Two hours into a peaceful sleep, Peyton was jerked into consciousness by a loud, long scream. Her heart skipped two beats and when it returned to normal rhythm it was pounding. She quickly threw the covers off of her and sprinted up the stairs. She ran into Brooke's room where the scream had originated.

She found Brooke sitting up in her bed, covers clutched tightly to her chest, body shaking. She quickly sat next to Brooke and pulled her into a side hug trying to warm her shaking friend. Peyton's mind raced. She suddenly remember that Brooke used to have crazy nightmares all the time when they were kids. She tried to recall the last time Brooke had a nightmare this bad. It had been their sophomore year. She could remember it clearly because it hadn't happened again, until tonight.

"Brooke?"

Brooke shook her head, "It's back, Peyton?"

Peyton's shoulders sagged with the weight of Brooke's words. She knew what Brooke meant, but she asked her to clarify.

"Just like it used to be, it's back," Brooke exhaled and leaned against Peyton heavily, "The beautiful monster is back."


	2. Why is it back?

Author's Note: I know the first chapter was a little quick/short and potentially confusing, but it will all be revealed. Just keep in mind that this is kind of my way of writing/thinking about why Brooke could be the way she is and why her mother is so mean.

2

I looked at Brooke over my bowl of Fruit Loops. I didn't even taste the bite as I searched my best friend's face and skin for clues and answers. She seemed so pale, much paler than she had been the day before. I knew that she had not slept any more the night before, not after the nightmare she had.

I felt my teeth grasping at my bottom lip as I contemplated the various theories I used to own on why Brooke had these horrible dreams. It had been so long since Brooke's last nightmare, so many years. I had become the queen of bad days and Brooke had become my support. But now those damn nightmares were back, and I was once again thrown into the mystery of it all.

But my curiosity didn't trump Brooke's pain. Her eyes stared blankly at her orange juice. Might I add her untouched orange juice? She had not said more than a few words since we had gotten up this morning. I wanted to stay in her room after she had blurted out about the "beautiful monster" being back. I wanted to comfort her, to make sure she slept. But she insisted she was fine, said it was stupid to get upset over a nightmare at her age, and she sent me back downstairs to my room where I refused to fall asleep just in case she needed me.

We had been sitting here in silence for thirty minutes. I absentmindedly crunched my cereal. She stared. Her breathing was shallow, barely there. Her eyes seemed dark, empty. I really wish I knew what created these damn nightmares and I really wish I knew why they were back.

"Did you call a therapist?" I don't know why I asked the question, it was obvious that she hadn't. I just hoped that if she didn't talk to me about it, she would talk to someone.

Brooke just shook her head no and looked at me sadly, "And tell him what?"

I shrugged. Hell I had no idea what she would tell him, "Brooke, was it the same nightmare?"

She looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly together and simply nodded yes. I wished I had someone to get mad at. I remembered every single time she ever had a nightmare. She would scream and the covers would be in complete disarray. She used to spend the night at my house all the time because she hated being alone at her house and hated it even more when her parents were there constantly fighting.

I held a lot of animosity for Brooke's mother. She should have been there more for Brooke growing up, but I always knew she was a selfish bitch. So Brooke stayed at my house a lot trying to escape her crappy home life. And I loved every second of it. I had a best friend that I got to spend every day with and she got the family she always wanted.

I remember the very first time she had the nightmare. We were only eight years old. She was spending the night at my house nearly every weekend often comforting me on the loss of my mother. She woke up screaming and I had no idea what to say or do, nor did she. We were eight…we both had monsters to battle.

The first time she called it a beautiful monster was when we were thirteen. She had been writing poetry for some time without me knowing it. I was at her house waiting for her to pack a bag to go to my house. I was scanning her room just trying to learn more about my best friend (everything about her intrigued me). I saw a brown leather journal. She saw me looking at it and told me that she had been writing poetry, a lot, as a way to deal with the nightmares she had. She told me that she had no idea what they were about. They only thing she knew was that she was terrified by a monster. Petrified by something so scary and terrorizing that she couldn't look at it. And then, confusingly, she said it was a beautiful monster. And from then on, that's how she referred to it. The thing in her dream was this "beautiful monster."

"Peyton," Brooke's soft voice broke through my rambling thoughts. I gave her my full attention, "I know it's a lot to ask, but do you think…maybe…"

Her expression seemed so lost, so afraid, "Anything, B. Davis, you name it."

"Do you think you could cover for me today at C Over B?" Brooke looked at me pleadingly.

I hesitated, thinking only of my own fear…the fear of Brooke's mom. I wanted to say no, but that look in her eyes made my heart shake. It was the look that could get me to do anything. It was sweet and innocent, and beautiful. I would do anything for Brooke Davis.

"Yeah, of course I will."

Brook nodded, "Thank you."

I wanted to stay with Brooke, all day. Everything about her body language was screaming that she didn't want to be alone. But nothing about her words said the same. I decided that I would try to talk to her before we left for the day.

She excused herself from the table abruptly without more than an utterance of a syllable, making me wonder if I had done anything wrong. Then I remembered that sometimes, life isn't about me. I watched her move slowly toward the stairs, moving as though she was wearing concrete shoes. I could feel my face tightening into a scowl of perplexing theories.

I was surprised when she quickly turned around and walked back to me at the table. She bent down and hugged my neck and that's when I felt it. It was permeable like glass cutting into skin. Brook was terrified and she was shaking.

I didn't want to let her go, but I had to see her face. I pulled back and stood up looking her in the eyes. They were filled with tears.

"Brooke?" I wanted to know if she was going to be okay.

She shrugged, meaning she had nothing to add. I held her hands tightly, "Brooke? Talk to me. Please."

"I just don't understand Peyton." She exhaled when she spoke and I could smell the fresh scent of toothpaste. "I don't understand why it's back. After all this time, why?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly, "But I'm going to help you find out what's causing these."

"How, Peyton? We could never figure it out back then, what makes you think we'll figure it out now?"

I thought about it for a second never breaking eye contact, "We'll figure it out because we're older, and smarter, and because I'm not going to rest until we do figure it out."

Brook seemed almost happy with that statement. At least, her eyes lit up. She simply hugged me again and disappeared up the stairs leaving me to wonder how I was going to fulfill the semi-promise of figuring this all out.

I went to my bathroom and took the longest shower I could in order to clear the cobwebs from my sleepless mind. When I was done getting ready, I searched the house for Brooke. All I found was a post-it note on the front door.

"P. Sawyer, I'm going to the storage unit to search through some old things. I think we both know that this started in the house with the red door."

I nodded to myself as I pondered the whereabouts of that brown journal with the poems in it, the ones about the beautiful monster.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Brooke barely noticed the dirt and dust collecting at the hems of her designer jeans. She was too intent on opening box after box, hoping that she would across something, anything, that would give her a clue about her nightmares.

She smiled slightly as she dusted off an old baby doll she had retrieved from a box of papers. The doll looked exactly like Brooke. Peyton used to think it was creepy, but Brooke loved it because her mother had given it to her when she was 5, or 6. Brooke couldn't be sure how old she was, but she remembered getting it. It was a beautiful sunny day and she and her mother had been shopping. After they had carried all the bags in, Victoria had extracted the doll from a bag and smiled as she handed it to Brooke.

Brooke saddened at the memory of her mother being so kind and generous. Brooke had felt loved by her then. But now all she felt was contempt and anger.

She kissed the doll lightly on the forehead and set her to the side so she wouldn't forget to take her home. She rifled through the large amounts of paper, mostly old school work and love letters from various boys in high school…some she had given in to, and some she hadn't.

Her fingers touched the cold leather before her eyes saw it. She pulled it out slowly, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Everything in her wanted to put the book back. She set the journal to the side, next to the doll, and opened a different box. This one contained photo albums. Brooke perked up slightly as she came across an album of her parents wedding. They looked so happy and carefree. Brooke wondered briefly if she had been the cause of their discontent.

She thumbed through several albums before coming across one she didn't recognize. She opened it and felt a knot in her throat and stomach. Each page contained pictures of Brooke and her father and in everyone Brooke's face had been scratched through with scissors or some sharp object.

Brooke's hand shook as she turned each page revealing the same vandalism to every picture in the small album. Her face was destroyed, but her father's was not. She wondered who would do such a thing, and in wondering she could only think of one person…Victoria.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I hated this woman. She never walked or glided across the room. It was as though she was on an eternal war march and I was the bitter enemy. Truth is, while we were growing up, I might have seen Victoria once or twice a year. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why she hated me so much. Maybe it was because I loved her daughter more than she ever could.

"Peyton," She barked at me for the fifth time in an hour, "Are you an idiot? I explained perfectly how this display should be set up and you have completely ignored me."

I wanted to say something nice and attract flies with honey or some crap like that, but this woman had jumped all over my last nerve, "You know Victoria, you and I could be friends if you weren't such a cold-hearted bitch."

She laughed and looked at me with a pissy glare, "We could never be friends Peyton Sawyer, you're too much of a nothing, and one day my daughter will see that."

As though on cue, Brooke stormed into the store. I immediately grew worried about her. Her face was streaked with tears, and her eyes were ablaze with anger. Then her voice resounded through the store.

"Mother!"

I think Brooke's voice even startled the beast, albeit momentarily, for Victoria looked at me before turning to Brooke wide-eyed, "Why Brooke, darling, what's wrong with you? I thought you were home sick."

Brooke threw a photo album on the floor at Victoria's feet. Her mom had regained her composure because she simply looked at the album and back at Brooke, "What's this?"

I could see something in Victoria's eyes, something that would be easy to miss if you were as angry as Brooke was. Victoria had a glimmer of fear. Interesting. I sat still on the floor where I had been folding a stack of jeans and watched the scene unfold.

"You know damn well what it is, Mother." Brooke hissed.

I could see her trembling. How did everything get so weird all of a sudden. Victoria picked the album up off the floor and placed it on the counter behind her, "Brooke. You need to calm down so we can talk about this rationally, and without an audience."

She looked at me, as did Brooke. I was getting ready to excuse myself until I saw the look in Brooke's eyes that begged me not to leave. So I stayed where I was. Brooke looked back at Victoria, "Anything we talk about can be said in front of Peyton. She's been there for me a hell of a lot more than you ever have."

That didn't even faze Queen Victoria the Mean, "Brooke, before you say another word think long and hard about it, because sometimes there are answers we look for that we don't want to find."

There it was again…that glimmer of fear in Victoria's demeanor. Brooke missed it. I could tell because her defense stance was still strong. She moved beyond her mother and went straight to the photo album opening it. I couldn't see what she was pointing at but I knew whatever it was scared and upset Brooke. I stood slowly both wanting to comfort Brooke and get a better look at the pictures she was indicating.

Victoria closed the book slowly with robotic motion. Brooke's voice grew louder, "Why did you do that to my face, mother?"

Victoria shook her head, "Stop right there. I will not stand here and be accused . You need to think long and hard about yourself Brooke."

"Did you hate me that much?" Brooke asked in a voice that made my heart shatter, "Did you hate me so much that the mere image of my face made you angry?"

"Maybe I did, Brooke, but I didn't do this," Victoria pointed to the book. The realization that she admitted to hating her daughter dawned on both Brooke and myself. I watched her move toward the door getting ready to leave. It seemed that it was what she did best when it came to Brooke…leave.

"If you didn't do it, Victoria," Brooke said in a whispered voice, "Then who did?"

Victoria turned around one last time, this time the sadness and fear and anger were plastered all over her face. I could see the confusion and the realization pour over Brooke's face as Victoria said simply, "You did."


	3. I remember

3

Brooke's hands gripped the edge of the counter as she stared down at the album in front of her. Peyton stood closely behind her finally catching a glimpse of what had upset Brooke so much.

"What did she mean, Peyton?" Brooke asked, her voice tired and perplexed. "I didn't do this, did I?"

Peyton rested her hand on her best friend's shoulder, "I don't know Brooke. I mean, could it be possible that you did do this and you don't remember?"

Brooke didn't mind the question. She was suddenly aware that there were a lot of things she didn't remember, things that were going to finally be discovered. She felt herself being pulled into Peyton's thin arms and found immense comfort in the action. She sank into the strong embrace and let out a long sigh.

"What in the hell is going on with me, Peyton?"

Peyton had no real answers but offered action instead, "Let's go home. You need to eat something and maybe we can take a nap."

Brooke nodded knowing that locking up the store for one day wouldn't ruin her business. She let Peyton close out the cash register as she methodically locked everything up. When they were finally finished, Brooke picked up the photo album and held it close to her chest. Her sadness was evident and her fear prominent.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When we got back to the house on the river, I made Brooke sit on the back deck overlooking the river. I spent several minutes in the kitchen fixing toasted ham and cheese sandwiches, complete with pickles and mayonnaise. It was our favorite comfort food, after pizza with extra cheese and Canadian bacon of course.

I stood at the door holding the sandwiches and diet cokes on a serving tray. I stopped momentarily to really take in her demeanor. She looked so defeated, so lost. As she flipped through the pages of the vandalized album, I could feel her hurting and I knew that the time had come to solve this painful, terrifying mystery.

"Are you going to stand there watching me all day or are you going to serve up those sandwiches?" Brooke's voice held a hint of amusement, despite the worry that was threaded through it.

I had been caught many times staring at Brooke, always trying to figure her out. I smiled deeply at my best friend and walked to her carrying the sandwiches with me. She greedily grabbed hers off the tray and sank her teeth into it. I was very happy to see her eat.

"You seem like you're feeling a little bit better." It was true, despite the many emotions I could see running through her eyes, there was something renewed there.

Brooke nodded, chewing the bite she had taken. When she finally washed it down with a sip of diet coke, she looked at me thoughtfully, "I figured there's only one way to deal with whatever is going on. That's head on. Whatever this is, it's bad. I mean, really bad. I know that much. There's too much memory loss and weirdness for it to be anything simpler than horrible. I can either cower down and let it win, or I can stand up and fight for peace of mind."

God I loved this girl. She was always facing everything head on. I had never known her to hide or shrink away from anything. Even when she should. I must have been looking at her with too much pride because she laughed.

"You look like you want to kiss me," Brooke's smile lit up the sun.

I smiled, "You keep talking that war talk and I'll start thinking you're pretty damn hot."

Brooke shrugged, "I am hot."

I could tell that her sudden playfulness was more than slightly forced, but at least she was trying to put on a brave front. I picked up the album from her lap and was surprised the see the brown leather journal underneath it. Her fingers danced across its cover.

"I found it in a box in the storage shed. I haven't opened it. I've been too scared of what I would read."

I nodded. I had never seen the inside of this journal, but I knew that Brooke had spent a lot of time writing in this thing when we were younger. Brooke looked at me with fearful eyes. I nodded and she turned to a random page. As we read it together, I realized that this was going to be a lot harder on Brooke that either of us imagined.

_**Into the Night**_

_Into the night I close my eyes so dark_

_Above in the trees a thing so vicious lurks_

_I cry out but no one hears me call_

_Deeper into the night, deeper I fall_

_The stars and moon are gone_

_Into the night I know it's wrong_

_Do you hear me cry so loud, tell me do you hear_

_Can you see me crying my eyes are full of tears_

_Into the night I walked again and again_

_Endlessly into the night my dreams will begin_

"How old were you when you wrote that?" I asked.

Brooke looked at the date under the poem, "I guess I was around 12. It's the first one."

"Kind of dark for a 12 year old, isn't it?" I couldn't believe that Brooke, makeup hording, clothes horse Brook Davis had written this poem.

"So is this one," she whispered.

_FLASHES DARK THOUGHTS NEVER WAKING FEARS_ _Flashes frame by frame_ _Dark and light, all the same_

_Thoughts to words to dreams_

_Never is what it seems_

_Waking in nights hold_

_Fears yet untold_

_Flashes of the past _

_Dark is coming fast _

_Thoughts not asleep_

_Never buried deep_

_Waking nightmare in day_

_Fears won't go away_

_Flashes of the night_

_Dark holds her tight_

_Thoughts will overcome_

_Never can be too numb_

_Waking tired and cold_

_Fears left untold._

Brooke looked pale as she read the next poem on the following page and then the next. Each rhyme, each word was a glimpse into a scared, lost little girl with an adult soul. By the time we reached the last few poems, my hands were trembling, and finally, we read one with a clue, a solid clue as to what it was Brooke had blocked out.

_**Hands**_

_Covering me, smothering me, hovering over me_

_Hands from which I can't be free_

_Wanting me, having me, wasting me_

_Hands that I cannot see_

_Holding me down, forcing me down, keeping me down_

_Hands underneath my gown_

_Darkening me, haunting me, killing me_

_Hands that should not be._

I swallowed hard. We both knew. Maybe we had known from the beginning. But the poem, it stated it so clearly. Brooke had been hurt badly as a child…maybe more than once…maybe often.

She closed the book and silent tears fell down her beautiful cheeks. I wanted to wipe them away, so I did. Gently my hand brushed her face and I could feel and see the tremulous fear that was sheltered in her eyes. How had I never noticed before how broken, my Brooke was?

She slipped herself into my arms which I had subconsciously offered. I held her sitting out on the deck until the sun fell. The way she cried, I had to wonder if she knew who it had been. And as I glanced at the photo album with the vandalized pictures, I grasped a clue. Brooke was beautiful, was he the monster?

XXXXXXXXXXXX

I got my way. Brooke didn't try to put on a brave front as I got into the bed with her. She needed someone there to protect her from the nightmares and it was exactly what I intended to do. She fell asleep with tears still on her face, her back turned toward me.

We had discussed the possibility that her father had done something to her. Brooke couldn't remember anything about it. Not one thing. The poems, the pictures, nothing was jarring her memory. How horrible had it been?

I was about to drift to sleep after several hours of worrying and wondering when suddenly Brooke began to talk in her sleep. It was something she had never done before. Even with the worst of the nightmares. So…I listened.

"No, mommy. Please don't leave me."

Her voice was so small, so weak. I wanted to wake her up, but she needed to know, so still, I listened.

"Don't leave me with him."

God. I knew the sweet child that Brooke had been. She had been my saving grace. How had I not known?

"Daddy, don't make me go with him."

I heard enough. I couldn't hear that scared little girl voice and not cry myself. I had to wake her up. Before I could shake her gently into awareness, she shot up, screaming and thrashing. She had no idea what she was doing and as I moved to hold her I caught a backhand to the lip. I could taste the blood immediately, but I didn't care. I grabbed her and held her until she could hear my voice telling her it was me.

When finally she was fully aware and sobbing in my shoulder, I told her she had spoken in her sleep. She pulled away, face red and swollen from tears and looked at my lip. I waved my hand as to physically wave away the worry on her face.

She frowned and looked as though she was in another time and place, "I remember. I remember


	4. I am the beautiful monster

Author's Note: Okay, here's a REALLY short update to Beautiful Monster

Author's Note: Okay, here's a REALLY short update to Beautiful Monster. I thought I needed to go ahead and get the memory out there so we can deal with the aftermath of it all. This story won't be much longer, because I want to concentrate on Witness and finishing that up, as well as Put Your Records On. Once I get everything I'm writing finished…I have a NEW story I want to tell about Brooke and Peyton. 

Not fluff, read at your own risk!

4

"What do you remember, Brooke?" I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear it, but I knew I had to.

Her hands were shaking when she finally turned her eyes to mine, "I remember what they did."

They? Who were they and what had they done to my Brooke?

"I was seven years old," Brooke spoke again as though she were not in that room with me. "My parents had a business dinner at our house. It was always about business."

I didn't like the way this was going, "Brooke?"

She looked at me with those beautiful eyes and I could see so much pain…more pain than I had ever seen in my own eyes.

"My mom didn't know that the deal…the business deal was…it was me."

My breath and my heart both stopped at the same time. I couldn't breathe for the tightness in my chest. The anger that was beginning to well up within me, "What do you mean Brooke?"

"I was in my room. I could hear them talking…the two of them, Daddy and him. The other man."

I had to bite my lip so I wouldn't say anything stupid. I had to let her talk…just talk.

"They were arguing about the finer points of their deal and my dad told him he had one hour with me, but first he had to sign the papers."

"Oh, God…" it was the only thing I could say. I pulled her to me again and held her while she continued.

"My mom saw him coming toward my room and she stood in front of the door. She was going to protect me. But my father…my father was the one that made her move. She did. She moved because he was going to take me away forever if she didn't."

I felt somewhat reassured by this, "Why didn't she call the police, Brooke?"

Brook shrugged against me, "Maybe…maybe she loved the thought of money more than she loved me?"

It was possible. Victoria Davis was one of the most ruthless people I had ever met. I could feel Brooke tremble against me. I knew she was thinking about it, remembering the details of it. I knew what was coming next.

"Peyton," she sounded so small, "They let that monster into my room and then they left the house."

"You don't have to tell me what happened next. I can imagine."

Brooke nodded, "All the signs pointed toward it, huh? All those boys I've been with…the drinking in high school."

I nodded too, "Brooke, those are symptoms, not who you are inside. You know that, don't you?"

She struggled to speak, "I don't know Peyton…maybe I really am the whore they made me."

With that she broke down and began to sob again leaving me angrier than I ever have been in my life. How could anyone hurt a little girl like this? Especially her parents. I knew that Brooke had never been protected by anyone but me. Even Lucas broke her heart. Chase had looked down on her. I held her tighter and she held me back.

As my heart broke over and over again, her memory was flooded with the recollections that she had hidden. She spoke each one aloud. From seven to age twelve, Brooke revealed that she had been part of a "business deal" ten separate times. When she had finally gotten her period her mother had convinced her father to stop, or they'd have to deal with an unexplainable pregnancy. He agreed.

I sat, appalled at everything I had heard. I held my best friend until she cried herself into an exhausted sleep. I couldn't comprehend the monstrosities that the girl had been through. Here she was, 22 years old, successful beyond all understanding, and absolutely the strongest person I had ever met. How could anyone have ever hurt her?

XXXXXXXXXX

Brooke woke up just as the sun was coming up over the river, making it's reflection in the water. She looked thoughtfully at Peyton asleep beside her, still sitting up, guarding her.

She slipped away from the bed, and walked out onto the balcony. The fresh air was cleansing. The thoughts in her mind were damning. Brook wondered how she would deal with the new information about her history. It changed so much. It explained so much. And yet she didn't know what to do with it.

She felt disgusting, depressed, angry. She felt everything she was sure she should feel, and yet she felt detached as well. More than anything, she was feeling contempt. Hate for her mother.

She went back inside and locked herself in the bathroom. She turned on the hot shower and stepped in. Their faces surfaced in her mind. She could make out various features, but all of them were monsters to her. She knew then who the beautiful monster was. She was the beautiful monster. It was what one of them, the first, had referred to her as. He said she was a little monster when she had fought him, her tiny fists against his broad chest. He had said she was a beautiful monster.

She allowed the tears to intermingle with the flowing water. She had spent her entire teen years becoming that beautiful monster, hiding under the surface of nice clothes and a pretty smile. Brooke knew now that her parents had thrown money at her because they were guilty. And because they couldn't stand to have a close relationship with a daughter they had so horribly betrayed.

Brooke turned off the water. She stepped out and after she was dressed she exited into the bedroom again. Peyton was there, waiting with open arms. She fell into them desperately wanting to hear how good she was, and that she was no where near being a monster. Peyton's voice was soothing and convincing. With Peyton, Brooke felt whole, strong, and innocent.

"I have to call my mom," Brooke finally said after sitting in Peyton's arms for several minutes. "I have to tell her that I remember."

"Do you want me to come along?" Peyton asked not wanting to let Brooke out of her sight.

Brooke nodded, "Would you?"

Peyton nodded and pulled her into a hug again, "It's going to be okay Brooke. I promise. We'll make it through this together. You don't have to do it alone."

Brooke knew that it was true. She wasn't alone and as along as Peyton had been in her life she hadn't been. But talking to Victoria was not going to be okay, not by a long shot.


	5. Revelations

Author's Note: Sorry that this one has taken forever to update too. I think I have too many irons in the fire…or whatever. LOL. If the interaction between Brooke and Peyton feels a little sudden in this chapter don't worry, I haven't lost my flippin' mind. It won't be a "yay they're happy the end" story. Sorry. Brooke has a lot to deal with and so does Peyton, so…we'll see, but just a spoiler…this is certainly without a doubt BREYTON! Also, I'm switching to Brooke's POV in the middle of the story so watch out for that. I think it's clearly written but just in case…

Thank y'all for reading and sticking with me, for those who have. Hopefully you haven't given up on me yet.

The songs in this chapter are Porcelain Heart by Barlow Girl and Displaced by Azure Ray.

5

I wasn't exactly sure how the confrontation would go. I knew that I would be a silent witness watching somewhere from the background. I also knew that if Brooke needed me to say anything I would and I would always be on her side.

I glanced over at her as we stood outside of the hotel room Victoria had been staying in. It was probably the only penthouse suite in Tree Hill and it was probably beneath Victoria's standards. Brooke was definitely right about her love of money.

Brooke's hand shook as she reached for the gold knocker below the room number 501. My heart pounded knowing the revelations that Brooke was about to drop on Victoria. I wondered how in denial Victoria was. I wondered if she would tell Brooke she was wrong.

I looked again at my best friend's eyes. There was no mistaking the loss and pain and agony seated deep within the brunette. It was all so much. It was almost too much for me to bear. I couldn't imagine how she was dealing with it.

The door opened revealing a sadistic smile of arrogance, "Brooke, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"We need to talk," Brooke said as she pushed past Victoria pulling Peyton in with her.

I could feel Victoria's dismay at my presence. She knew that as long as I was with Brooke there would be no way for her to twist the situation around on Brooke. I felt smug knowing that fact and I felt a surge of protectiveness over the brunette I had accompanied.

"What insane drama do you have cooked up now, Brooke darling?"

I could have killed her.

"I remember everything, Mother." Brooke was really going to go through with this confrontation. I was scared for her and felt proud of her all at the same time.

Victoria's eyes dared to widen slightly as though she was mulling over a thousand things Brooke could remember, but I knew, and Brooke knew, that Victoria was about to get scared too, "Remember what?"

The bitterness in Victoria's voice was cold and distant. I could sense that she had emotionally cut herself off from Brooke years before.

"I remember the night you let daddy sell me to the highest bidder," Brooke's voice was so calm, so careful it unnerved me. She continued, "I remember how you tried to stop him and then suddenly you walked away from the door to my bedroom allowing that monster to drag me in there."

Victoria was certainly paler than she had been moments earlier. She deserved everything she was about to get. She remained quiet as Brooke continued.

"I remember that it didn't happen just once. It happened several times and every time daddy closed on a huge deal there was a huge amount of money. I'm sure that was what made you okay with what was done to me."

Victoria paced from one end of the couch to the other before finally heading toward the bar. She grabbed bourbon and poured herself some over ice. I almost wished I had some too, bu I wanted to remain clearheaded for Brooke. Brooke wasn't shaking, or crying, or whining…she was so strong.

I moved to stand behind Brooke beginning to wonder when the strength would falter. I eyed Victoria with the disgust and hate I felt for her. She wasn't talking, just drinking. She also wasn't denying anything.

Brooke caught it too, "I see you have nothing to say for yourself."

Victoria shrugged and slapped on that bitchy smile she often sported, "Prove it, Brookie. Just prove it."

Brooke's façade began to crack. Her shoulders sagged. The worst thing imaginable had been done to this child and all her mother had to say was, "Prove it." God I hated this world sometimes.

Brooke stepped back and I could feel her fingertips graze mine. I wanted to hold her hand and tell her everything was going to be okay. But I wasn't so sure I could keep that promise. As I looked at Brooke's arms crossing around her waist defensively I knew that things wouldn't be okay for a long time to come. Still…she didn't cry.

"So what if it's true Brooke. It's the past. We can't change it."

Brooke gasped, "You're not denying it?"

"Why should I? Maybe the first time was hard on you, but you never complained, you never told me that you were scared."

A gentle sad tear found its way to Brooke's face. It rolled slowly to her cheek and then dripped to the floor. I watched as it fell getting lost in the plush carpet of the hotel room. I looked at Brooke's face from beside her. Her strength was gone, but in its place was anger. God she was gorgeous when her eyes glowered. Brooke was right, beautiful monster fit in this scenario, but Brooke was beautiful, and her mother was the monster.

Victoria continued and I felt satisfaction knowing that in my pocket was one very crucial tool, "So, what do you say we forget you ever remembered this small detail, and go about our daily business."

"Small detail?" Brooke whispered, "You bitch. You ruined my life. You let that happen to me and I had no one to lean on, with the exception of Peyton. You did that to me. You left me alone, hurt, aching, scared and screaming in the night. You are as bad as any of those men. You are worse. I should go to the police."

"Go to the police, Brooke." Victoria challenged, "Tell them what happened to the poor little rich girl. Tell them and I'll tell them all about your very troubled teenage years and then how lovely when the press catches wind that fashion mogul Brooke Davis is such a whore."

Brooke didn't slap her. Although Victoria had moved her face within striking distance, Brooke didn't take the swing. But I did. I couldn't help it. I was seeing red and then she called Brooke the one thing that would break Brooke the hardest, a whore. She called Brooke something that would drive her to the edge, make her question everything she was. Brooke had slept with many guys. She had one night stands in school. She woke up once with two guys in her bed not recalling either of their names, but Brooke wasn't a whore by choice…she was what her parents had made her.

So I hit her. I didn't slap her, I punched her, closed fist and all. Victoria actually fell to the ground with a bloody nose. Holy crap that felt great! I stood over her just daring her to stand up, "Go to the police Victoria, tell them that I hit you. I dare you. Tell them and I'll make sure every society column in the world gets a copy of this."

I pulled the small digital recorder from my pocket and flashed it to her. I pressed play and Victoria paled at the sound of her own ridiculously evil voice. Brooke was done. She turned toward the door finished for the moment. I followed her closely moving aside when she turned around and looked at her mother one more time. She still had not gotten up from the floor.

"One more thing, Victoria," venom dripped from Brooke's lips, "You're fired.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

I asked Peyton to drop me off at the pier. She looked so concerned and I couldn't help but smile at her. She was my rock. Hell, Peyton Sawyer was my everything. She just had never been told that.

"Are you sure, Brooke?" She asked me, those green eyes welling up with tears.

I nodded, "Yeah. I'll be okay. I promise. I just need to…"

Hell what did I need? "I just need to clear my head I guess. Let go of some this anger. I'll meet you back at the house."

"Hold onto some of that anger Brooke," Peyton looked so serious, "The fight has only just begun."

I frowned, knowing what she meant. I nodded and closed the door to the Mercury. I walked toward the water hoping Peyton would really go home and not just park far enough away that I wouldn't see her. She was very good at protecting people from afar.

I tried not to think about my mother and what had happened to me. Instead I settled myself down on the pier letting my legs dangle over the water. It rushed in and out, water kissing the shore with each wave.

I let the air out of my lungs and instead of focusing on my mom, I found myself thinking about Peyton. She had punched my mother. It felt great to watch another human being stand up for me, and to stand protectively in front of me. No one had ever done that for me…no one but her. My Peyton.

God I was so lucky to have her in all of this. I thought about what this was. The fresh memory of their hands on me as a child it invaded my mind like the darkness of a storm invading a beautifully bright fall day.

She didn't even lie about it and Peyton had it on record. My mother sold me. What was so damn important about money that she would give away the innocence of her only child to have it? I thought about all of her designer clothes and expensive jewelry. I thought about the things I had in high school. All things given to me by my parents. Things that had been bought with money made in deals where I was the bargaining chip.

I felt queasy and scared. I wish I hadn't sent Peyton away. I swallowed the knot in my throat as I realized that I was once again crying. The pier was empty except for me which is why I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up into the eyes of the person who touched me.

She was standing over me, my Peyton, her tears matched mine drop for drop. She sat beside me and held me tightly allowing me once again to cry.

Her voice was so calming, so warming, "I couldn't leave you."

I secretly hoped she never could, "Thank you."

We sat like that for a long time letting the sun warm us, letting the pain subside only slightly as I shared it with my best friend. We sat with our arms around one another trying to hold on to the small semblance of hope we held that the future would be brighter than today. And despite the memories, despite the awful hole in my heart that my parents had caused…I felt as though it could be brighter…that it would be brighter.

I'm not sure how long we stayed in that position, but before too long, we knew we had to move on. I had a store to run and Peyton had a record company to get back to. As I looked into her eyes and she wiped away my tears for the umpteenth time, I knew Peyton wasn't going to leave my side for a few days.

We drove to the store to check on Millicent. Everything was under control. I gave her strict instructions that if Victoria showed up the police were to be called to escort her out. We found ourselves heading toward the house by the river. Our home.

We mostly drove in silence. I noticed that Peyton's right hand was looking purple around the knuckles. I felt bad about that. I wondered how easy Peyton's life might have been if she had never had to deal with me in the first place.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked me.

I didn't want to tell her what was really on my mind so I shrugged, "Dinner, I guess."

Peyton seemed surprised, "Are you really hungry?"

I let my mind think about it long enough to realize that I was indeed hungry, "Yeah. I am."

Peyton smiled. She must have been afraid that I was going to shrink into some hole and never come out. I wish I could tell what she was thinking. About all of it. About me, about what had happened when I was younger. I knew she loved me, but was it enough to stick around.

We ordered pizza when we got back home. Peyton turned on some music and turned the television on with the sound turned down. She was trying to keep my mind busy and I loved her for it. She always knew what I needed.

But the curiosity, the need to know was killing me. I turned the music down, enough to hear the lyrics, but enough to hear our voices as well.

I don't know what the song was but it was beautiful. I pulled Peyton to the couch and made her sit next to me. She looked tired and confused. I tried to smile but I know it faltered under the weight of the stare. She held my hand tightly. I just needed to know how the one person who's ever loved me felt about now. She knew everything there was to know about me, and although I knew she felt compassion, I wondered if she thought less of me.

_**Broken hearts, one more time**_

_**Pick yourself up, why even cry**_

_**Broken pieces in your hands**_

_**Wonder how you'll make it whole**_

"Brooke? Are you okay?" Peyton's voice was filled with true concern. God she was so good to me.

I shrugged. Answers just weren't coming to me very quickly any more, "I just…I needed to ask you something. It's kind of…stupid."

Peyton shook her head and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear giving me the chills, "Nothing you could have to say Brooke would ever be considered stupid by me."

I had to ask her, "Do you think less of me now?"

Peyton looked shocked, "How could you even ask me that Brooke? Of course I don't. Oh my God, sweetie, there's no way in hell I could even remotely think less of you right now."

_**You know, you pray**_

_**This can't be the way**_

_**You cry, you say**_

_**Something's gotta change**_

_**Mend this porcelain heart of mine**_

Was it the loneliness? Was it the feeling that I was an alien in a human world? Whatever it was, I found myself believing…no, knowing that Peyton was the only person who would ever mend my heart and heal my soul.

"Peyton, I just…I would understand. I mean, it's disgusting."

She didn't even try to stop her tears, "Yes, it is disgusting. What they did to you is the sickest thing I have ever heard of. But that doesn't mean you are less of a person. It makes them disgusting. You were…are an innocent victim Brooke. You always were."

"But I…I…" I had no idea what I wanted to say, but I knew I couldn't tell her the one thing I was thinking. "I…I feel like…I feel like I'm not good enough anymore, Peyton."

"Good enough for who Brooke?"

_**Someone said a broken heart**_

_**Would sting at first then make you stronger**_

_**Wonder why this pain remains**_

_**Were hearts made whole just to break**_

"Brooke?"

How was I ever going to tell her? "You, Peyton."

Peyton looked at me confused as though she was reading between the lines, "Brooke…I…I'm the one…"

She stopped mid-sentence. I didn't push her any further. I let her continue, "You and I are best friends. Good enough isn't even an issue for us. You have to know that in your heart. Brooke, this whole thing. This revelation about your childhood, it doesn't change us. It doesn't change you. It explains things, but it doesn't define them. Do you get that? I mean do you really get that?"

_**You know, you pray**_

_**This can't be the way**_

_**You cry, you say**_

_**Something's gotta change**_

_**And mend this porcelain heart of mine**_

When Peyton said things she made them seem so real, so true. I had no choice but to believe her. I nodded at her question. I did get it. Peyton knew me, she always had, and she always would. Peyton made me feel less like the monster I saw myself as, and more like the beautiful that I wanted to be.

_**Creator, only you take brokenness**_

_**And create us into beauty once again**_

_**You know, you pray**_

_**This can't be the way**_

_**You cry, you say**_

_**Something's gotta change**_

She wiped away one of my tears with her thumb. I sank into the warm touch. I held her hand and caressed the bruised knuckles, "Thank you Peyton."

Peyton shrugged but didn't pull her hand away from mine, instead she held mine tighter, "I would do it a million times over."

"I know. I love you for that."

I thought I saw her blush slightly as she dropped her eyes to the floor. The song was beginning to fade away as another took its place.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

__ Brooke had no idea that she was the reason the new song was on my iPod in the first place. I knew that it wasn't the time to tell her everything I wanted to really tell her. Bad timing, as usual.

_**It's just a simple line  
I can still hear it all of the time  
If i can just hold on tonight  
I know that nothing  
Nothing survives  
Nothing survives  
**_

__We sat in silence, holding hands, reflecting on the day. I couldn't help but look up at her beautiful face again. And she glanced sideways at me. It wasn't uncomfortable, just two friends caring about one another, being there with each other.

Something about her demeanor, her nervous voice, it made me think she had something more to say to me, but she wasn't talking anymore. I saw the tears shimmer in her eyes against the soft glow of the red tinted lamps of the living room. She looked so tormented and I knew it had to do with everything she had just remembered.

_**I think i'm turned around  
I'm looking up  
Not looking down  
And when i'm standing still  
Watching you run  
Watching you fall  
Fall into me  
**_

I wanted to touch her face again. I wanted to ask her if she could ever feel the same, and it was at

that moment I realized what I was admitting to myself. It was never about Lucas. There was angst there and agony, but it was about running away, not finding a place to stand still.

And I looked again at Brooke's face, so pale, so sad, so alone. I had been running away from her for years and never getting very far. I realized in that beautifully miserable half a second that I was, and always had been in love with Brooke Davis. Could she ever feel the same?

XXXXXXXXXXX

God, Peyton, stop looking at me. I was losing myself in the moment. Peyton was here. She was always here. And I was never going to push her away as long as she wanted the spot next to me. Even if I had to live forever knowing I was in love with Peyton Sawyer and never going to be able to act on it, I could live with that just having her near.

_**  
Am i making something worthwhile out of this place  
Am i making something worthwhile out of this chase  
I am displaced  
I am displaced  
**_

She was here. She was holding my hand and making me feel safe. Something my own parents couldn't even do for me. The awful things I had revealed to her just the night before, and she was still here. When I had no one. When I could trust no one…Peyton was here. And I knew, simply by the way she sat silently holding my hand that she would always be here.

_**  
And she's my friend of all friends  
She's still here when everyone's gone  
She doesn't have to say a thing  
We'll just keep laughing all night long  
All night long  
**_

She leaned her body against me and I could feel how warm she was. I leaned back letting my head fall on her shoulder. I felt her kiss the top of my head. She reassured me with that simple gesture that I was safe and sound and would survive.

_**  
Am i making something worthwhile out of this place  
Am i making something worthwhile out of this chase  
I am displaced  
I am displaced  
**_

She kissed my head again this time letting her lips linger against my hair. I didn't mind. It felt sweet, innocent. The darkness grew outside. She was sitting so close to me that I thought I could hear her heart beating.

_**  
It's just a simple line  
I can still hear it all of the time  
If i can just hold on tonight  
I know that no one  
No one survives  
No one survives.**_

I turned my head to look up at her and she kissed my lips. I didn't pull away from her. I wanted her to kiss me. I wanted to feel that safety, that certainty that she would always be here. But she pulled away, her eyes wide with surprise. I stood up and walked away from her. I couldn't believe it. I thought she had kissed me, but I was the one who had kissed her, wasn't I?

The doorbell rang and in a shaky voice I grabbed the 20 from the kitchen counter. I wasn't going to talk about it, not now, not after possibly ruining everything with Peyton. With my whole life.

All I could manage to mutter as I headed toward the door without making eye contact was, "Pizza's here."


	6. Almost Normal

6

I watched Brooke as she paid the pizza guy and then sat the pizza on the countertop in the kitchen. Her lips still burned against mine and I was still trying to figure out if I had kissed her or if she had kissed me, because surely we hadn't kissed each other at the same time. I knew there was no way Brooke could feel the same way.

I felt horribly bad. It wasn't because we had kissed. It was because that kiss had ended. I watched her fumble nervously for paper plates and napkins.

"Ready to eat?" Her voice was thick with confusion and fear. I wanted to just hold her and tell her I'm sorry and that it didn't mean anything, but I made it a point to never lie to my best friend.

I nodded in response, "Sure."

Her eyes couldn't look into mine and I felt as though I was worse than her mother although I knew in my heart no one could be worse than her with the exception of the monsters that had hurt Brooke. My heart ached with the pain she was going through, and my selfishness had made it worse. I couldn't let it go.

"Brooke," I stood close to her and she didn't move, "I think we were just…"

I was trying to make it seem like it was just a mutual moment of insanity so she wouldn't have to deal with my feelings as well as hers.

"I'm sorry that I kissed you," Screw mutual…she had enough to deal with.

Brooke looked at me with surprise in her eyes and I began to wonder. My curiosity was put tp rest as she half smiled, sadly and said, "So that did just happen?"

I blushed and dropped my face, "I'm so sorry Brooke. With everything you have going on…"

"Let's just drop it," Brooke said with no sign of anger or resentment. "Things happen."

I nodded grateful for the respite. I exhaled slowly and allowed myself to look at her face. She was staring back at me with nothing but unconditional love. Who kissed who?

XXXXXXXXXX

Peyton looked back at me and I realized that I would love her forever. The pizza smelled good, but my mind was anywhere but on food. I thought back to everything that had taken place during the day. It was good to be at home with my best friend, even if that's all we could ever be.

She fixed herself a plate and I followed suit. I never wanted her to worry. Never. We ate in silence watching some reality show and then the news. As always, the news was a constant reminder that the world we lived in was crap.

I managed to choke down two slices of the pizza. My stomach ached from the grease and the stress. I leaned my head on Peyton's shoulder as we watched a story of a modern day knight. I wasn't afraid of kissing her again. I could control myself. I did worry that Peyton would run in horror if she knew my true feelings.

Before too long I decided that I was tired enough to actually fall asleep. I just hoped that I stayed that way.

"I think I'm going to bed," I said throwing her a tired a smile.

She smiled back, "Want me to come with you?"

My heart skipped three beats and she blushed, "Just so you'll sleep."

I nodded, "That'd be good, yeah."

Despite my fear of revealing how I really felt about Peyton, my fear of the dark and the past was much worse.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I changed in my room while Brooke got ready for bed in hers. She wasn't dressed as she normally was when I got there. Instead of a cute pajama set or even a nightgown, she wore black sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt.

"You okay?" I asked eyeing her clothes.

A tear rolled down her cheek. I wiped it away as she spoke softly, almost inaudibly, "Guess I just feel ugly."

God. Oh god. The pain in her voice made me want to hit something and hit it hard. I gathered her in my arms and hugged her as tight as I could.

"You're not ugly Brooke, and I know that what they did to you makes you think all kinds of horrible things about yourself but don't you knock yourself down because of them. Do you hear me? I love you Brooke Davis and I think you are absolutely beautiful inside and out."

Brooke looked at me with those big tears in her eyes, "You really think I'm beautiful?"

I could feel my skin burning, "Yes."

"Even though I did all those terrible things in high school? The drinking and partying and boys?"

I couldn't lie, "Yes…you're beautiful."

"And in spite of our fights in high school?"

"Still beautiful."

Brooke allowed her tears to continue to fall as she tried to decide whether I was telling the truth or not, "But what about those men and what they did? Am I beautiful? What they did made me broken and ugly, didn't it?"

"Not to me, Brooke," I answered truthfully. "Never to me."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

I wanted to kiss her again. Peyton wasn't lying and something in the way she looked at me made me feel beautiful despite wanting to hate myself. I avoided the possible kiss by laying my head down on her shoulder.

I didn't want to cry anymore and yet I couldn't stop. She held me until I could no longer feel any tears on my face and then I must have faded to sleep.

When I finally opened my eyes again, the sun was high in the sky. I looked at the clock and noticed it was past ten in the morning. I knew I had a ton of things to do at the store but the first thing on my mind was Peyton and where she could possibly be.

I managed to stumble out of bed and into the bathroom where I found a sweet note from Peyton taped to the mirror. She had gone to Clothes Over Bros to open up for me and to give Millicent a break. How was it that Peyton always knew what I needed?

I took a long hot shower and slipped on some clothes. I opted for something casual, cute, but not too revealing. I remembered my breakdown with Peyton the night before and although some embarrassment came with the moment, I was mostly uplifted by Peyton's honesty. If nothing else ever happened in my life I would at least always know that my best friend thought I was beautiful.

When I got to C.O.B. just at noon, I was carrying two brown bags of takeout from the Chinese place across the street. Peyton's eyes widened with joy and hunger as I came through the door. I hoped that the hug and smile I gave her conveyed the graciousness I felt that Peyton was my friend.

"Thought you might be hungry," I stated lightly.

Peyton smiled, "Starving, thank you!"

I locked the door and put up the "Back in One Hour" sign and Peyton and I moved to a table in the breakroom in the back of the store. The food was rich and delicious and seemed to cure the exhaustion I was still feeling.

"I have something to tell you," Peyton said seriously.

I wasn't sure I could handle seriousness, but I wanted to listen, "What is it?"

Peyton held up her hands reassuring me that it wasn't anything too awful, "I just hid the audio file that I have of your mother here in the store. It's in the cash register. I downloaded it to an SD Card."

I guess that was good to know, since I was positive Victoria was probably scheming to get the file destroyed. I thought about my mother. My heart sank and suddenly my food didn't taste as good as it had only minutes before.

I felt Peyton's finger lifting my chin up so that my eyes met her green hazel stare, "No, Brooke. Don't even think about her. Don't give Victoria another minutes thought. You're worth so much more than her and your happiness is my only concern."

I smiled softly and knew that she meant it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

I continued to keep my eyes on Brooke throughout our meal. She even smiled a few times as I talked about Skills and Mouth and the gang. They were always a constant source of amusement. I thought about all of our friends and if Brooke would ever reveal to them what she remembered about her childhood. I certainly wasn't going to tell anyone. That was Brooke's business to tell.

"Haley called me this morning," I revealed.

Brooke looked at me as though she was waiting for the bottom to fall out. I shook my head as I took in her scared stare, "No, no…I didn't say anything. I won't say anything, Brooke. It's for you to decide who you want to tell. She was just calling to invite us to dinner at their house tonight. Steaks and baked potatoes…"

I watched as Brooke's shoulders sagged slightly at the prospect of having to put on a fake smile in front of all of our friends. I knew it was a lot to ask of her considering the things she had only just remembered.

"Well…" Brooke finally spoke, her voice like heaven in my ears, "It is steak, and we know how much I love a good steak."

I couldn't help but laugh, "Great. Then I'll call Haley when we get through eating and tell her we'll be there."

Brooke nodded and I felt some normalcy return for the remainder of our lunch. When it was over we worked together, side by side, for the next six hours, laughing, joking, just being. Each time she stood within a foot of me I wanted to hold her. I wanted to maybe kiss her again. But I wasn't that selfish.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As the day passed I became less anxious about going to Haley's house with Peyton. I felt more like it was a necessary step in getting back to normal. I was only just beginning to deal with the things I had remembered, but staying grounded in the present kept me from falling into the past.

By the time closing came about we had done an insane amount of business and I was able to cope with it all thanks to Peyton. She was truly everything to me. Everything.

We got to Nathan and Haley's around 6:30pm. Everyone else was already there. I know Peyton could tell how nervous I was because she came to my side of the car as we got out and hugged me tightly. I slapped on the fakest grin I could and flashed it at Peyton. She actually smirked at me, which made my heart melt.

"Nice, B. Davis. I can't tell if that's a fake smile or an eat-shit grin."

I laughed out loud and it felt good, "Maybe both."

Peyton took my hand and led me inside. I thought about all the people in the house, Skills, Mouth, Nathan, Haley, Millicent, Jamie, Junk, and Fergie. None of them made me as nervous as Lucas and Lindsay. At first I couldn't figure out why, then I remembered how much Peyton was in love with Lucas and how she would never be in love with anyone else. Especially not me.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As we walked into the house my full attention and concern was on my best friend. Brooke was nervous and I knew it. She shook as we walked in despite that adorable, dimpled smile she had plastered on her face. She would have been a great Miss America contender.

I watched as Lucas and Lindsay cuddled on the couch, and I realized that I felt nothing at all. Not even resentment or wonderment. I was not in love with Lucas Scott. I grasped Brooke's hand tighter as we walked into the kitchen where we found Haley, Millicent, Nathan and the rest of the River Court Boys. I felt sorry for Millicent and Haley. They had apparently been listening to tasteless jokes for over thirty minutes. Millicent blushed, a lot.

Brooke finally let go of my hand when Haley offered her a stiff drink. I took one as well and threw a smile and wink to Brooke who seemed to smile back appreciatively. If I could be nothing more than a friend to Brooke then I would be the best damn friend she ever had.

The night was off to a smooth start, but smooth never stays that way for long. None of us could have foreseen where the conversations would lead that night, nor the devastating effect they would have on Brooke Davis.


	7. History

Author's Note: I know it's been forever…again. But now that OTH is back on I'm a little more inspired. This story will begin to intertwine with the sixth season, slightly, in the next chapter. But that's next chapter….let me get through this one first.  Thank you to those still reading it. Y'all are the most patient people I know!!

7

Sometime between everyone's fourth and fifth drink Deb came to whisk Jamie up to his bed for the night. Those of us left, Skills, Mouth, Haley, Nathan, Lucas, Lindsay, Brooke and myself, convened in the living room to talk. Junk, Fergie and Millicent had early mornings so they took an early leave from the festivities. Brooke seemed pretty relaxed and almost happy so I didn't see any harm in sitting around talking. That was until Lindsay opened her mouth.

The conversation turned to what it always turned to, the good old days at Tree Hill High. Why we, as a group, couldn't leave well enough alone was beyond me. But this time it was Lindsay who began to pry and peak into the privacy that was our history. My stomach tossed and turned as we mulled over Lucas' book, touched on the subject of Psycho Derek, pondered how Mouth became cool, and then I almost panicked when Lindsay looked at Brooke and said, "At least your reputation didn't follow you after high school, huh?"

Brooke blanched and I thought I could hear the ice in her bourbon shaking as she set it down on the coffee table. Oh hell, what could I do? Everyone was smiling knowing exactly what Lindsay was referring to. Brooke had history. She had a lot of history, but none of them, not one, knew why, and how god-awful it was.

Brooke frowned deeply and I could tell she was having difficulty making eye contact with anyone, even me. I could tell she wanted to let the comment slide, let it pass into the air from whence it came, but something else was brewing too. Sadness? Anger? Breakdown? I couldn't tell.

Lindsay squirmed slightly sensing the bad reaction boiling in Brooke, "Brooke, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just that in the book…I mean, well, what I meant was…"

Skills had to be a funny man, "Don't worry Lindsay. Everyone knows how Brooke was in high school. I think Mouth and I are the only ones in the group that don't know firsthand."

There was a chuckle from the group, at least from everyone but me and Brooke. Haley even chimed in, "Well…I never got with Brooke."

"Yeah," Nathan smiled, "Brooke brooked herself though."

I couldn't believe how insensitive our so-called friends were. Couldn't they see her? Couldn't they see how her hands trembled? Crap! What do I do? It was Lucas that finally noticed us. Me and my best friend, she in a state of pallid disarray and me on the verge of cussing out everyone.

Luke caught my eyes and gave me that look he always gave. The one that questioned everything in your soul. I flicked my eyes toward Brooke, not intending to give her away, but accomplishing just that. Lucas started to stand. He started to move toward Brooke confusing the oblivious members of our group. It was then that they all finally saw Brooke…the Brooke I had been seeing for days. Broken Brooke.

She stood up. Brooke did. Suddenly and startling. She was crying. Not drunk, not buzzed, simply saddened and sober.

"Yeah, that's right Lindsay. I was the high school whore. I did all the boys. Probably took on the whole football team but I was probably too drunk to remember, because I was a lush too. It's funny how you all like to joke about it." Brooke was looking at them all now, "You laugh and you think it's funny. But not one of you, except Peyton, ever stopped to ask why. Why is Brooke Davis so f-ed up? I'd tell you, but it's not like any of you really care."

And with that Brooke stormed out the front door. I was almost speechless, except I was too worried about her to be stunned. I chased her out the front door and caught her as she was about to fall forward, the alcohol and nerves finally doing her in. I sank to the ground with her in my lap. Her head rested against my chin as her tears landed on the arm I had wrapped around her.

I didn't say anything. Neither did she. We didn't have to or want to thanks to the audience we had growing twenty feet from us on the front porch of Nathan and Haley's house. All 6 of them stood their looking sad, confused and apologetic. I couldn't stand their faces. They had hurt Brooke, unintentionally, but painful nonetheless.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I couldn't breathe anymore. I don't know if I was choking on tears or on embarrassment. I just wanted to go home with Peyton. That was all I wanted to do. Go home and sleep in her arms and feel safe and loved and whole. I didn't want to face any of my friends other than my blondie.

It was too late to get out without explanation. Haley was kneeling next to where Peyton sat with me in her arms. I felt her presence but didn't look up. I kept my face buried in Peyton's arms. We were on the grass with the stars looking down at us as though guarding us from any more harm.

Haley's voice was soft and concerned, "Brooke. I'm sorry. We're all sorry. You're right. We've never asked. Do you…do you want to come back inside and help us understand. Help me understand?"

I didn't care about Lindsay and Lucas, I couldn't tell Mouth and Skills, but Haley and Nathan…I loved them and needed them in my life. Sooner or later they'd have to know. I looked up at Haley and sighed. Peyton continued to hold me tightly.

"I can tell you Haley. But not them. Nathan can find out from you, but it's not for anyone else to know."

Haley nodded and we all got into Peyton's car. Haley looked at Nathan knowingly and I knew she was communicating to him without words. Like Peyton and I often did. I sat between Peyton and Haley in the front seat. My body never stopped touching Peyton's side. Haley's hand held mine all the way back to our apartment. I could only imagine what was being said back at Haley's house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

We got back to our house before midnight. Brooke was exhausted already but I knew she wouldn't sleep anytime soon. Haley looked at me nervously, any signs of alcohol long gone from her demeanor and mine. I offered her a reassuring smile.

I sat down and Brooke curled up next to me across the living room from Haley. Haley looked from me to Brooke patiently waiting for someone to begin.

The silence must have finally gotten to her, "You guys…your scaring me. What's going on? Brooke?"

Brooke looked so ashamed even though we'd already talked about it not being her fault. It was the first time she would tell someone who might judge her. I was proud of my Brooke as she took a deep breath and gave Haley the whole story. All of it. Haley sat with her mouth agape. Tears streamed down her face, matching mine and Brooke's. I knew Brooke made the right choice in telling Haley. She needed as many people on her side as she could get.

Haley knelt down in front of Brooke and placed her hands on her knees looking up into her hazel eyes, "That should never…never have happened to you Brooke. Never. Your parents should be burned at the stake. And you…you should be proud of yourself. Look at you. You're strong and brave, beautiful, smart, and started an extremely successful company. God Brooke. I'm sorry we never knew. And I'm sorry Lindsay opened her big mouth. She's an idiot."

I had to laugh because Haley seemed to really like Lindsay, but I also knew that she loved my B. Davis. Everyone loved Brooke, except her mother.

Brooke fell asleep soon after she finished telling Haley her story. Haley sat next to Brooke as well, stroking her hair until she was out, her head falling on my shoulder. I relished the weight. I was so in love with this beautiful girl.

"Peyton," Haley's voice was whispered, "We need to talk."

My brow creased. I didn't want to leave Brooke alone on the couch, but I was curious as to what Haley needed to say. I gently slid out from under Brooke while guiding her head toward the pillow. I covered her with a throw we kept on the back of the furniture. Her face changed expressions as she subconsciously discovered how alone she truly was.

I followed Haley to the back deck overlooking the river. A steamboat drifted slowly by and I looked at my old friend, "What do we need to talk about?"

Haley turned to me with such sadness, "Do you still have the tape?"

I nodded, "Of course."

"Do you think Brooke's mom is capable of hurting her to protect this secret?"

It wasn't something I had thought of, but of course Victoria Davis was capable of it. She had already hurt Brooke a thousand times over. I glanced nervously toward the open door, "Haley? What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking you need to turn it into the cops," Haley sighed, "It's the only way to make sure Brooke's safe."

I shook my head in disagreement, "Are you serious, Haley? You think that if the whole town found out what Brooke's parents let some sick bastard do to her that she would be safe? Everyone would look at her and know. Some psycho might even enjoy the thought. Some sick pervert might imagine it when he's home alone. Do you think I'd let Brooke go through that? That's not safe, Hales."

Haley hugged me an d I let her. I was so worried about Brooke that I didn't realize how tired I was. Haley nodded as she released me, "It's okay, Peyton. It was just a suggestion. I just…I don't want Brooke to be hurt physically now. You know."

I nodded. The idea of touching Brooke now sent shockwaves through me. What if? What if?

Haley stayed another hour as we thought of ways to protect Brooke. I gave Haley the tape to keep at her house. At least the evidence would be safe. The only thing I was really worried about was the girl asleep on the couch.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

My head ached as though someone was dancing on it with steel toe boots. I realized that I was on the couch. I recalled everything from the night before. Everything. Shame was the first feeling after pain to course through my body followed closely by regret. What would Haley really think of me now?

I felt a hand on my leg. If it hadn't been such a light touch I would have been scared. I peaked through my lids and saw Peyton sitting with my legs on her lap reading a magazine. She just looked so calm and natural sitting there that I felt instant peace wash over me. She looked at me and smiled. I couldn't help but smile back at her.

"So…was Haley completely freaked out?" My voice was thick with fear. I could almost taste it.

Peyton put down the magazine and looked at me as seriousness changed the expression on her face. My heart sank as she replied, "Yes and No."

I raised my eyebrows urging her to answer. She sighed and reached for my hand which I gratefully gave her.

"She was in no way freaked out with you and what happened to you. What she is freaked out about is that your mom might try to hurt you or have you hurt now that we have evidence."

I wish I could say that the thought had never crossed my mind, but the truth was I had been waiting for it. Victoria Davis was cruel and calculating and it was only a matter of time before she hurt me again.

Peyton must have read my mind. Her voice was kind, so kind, "So then you are afraid too?"

I nodded, "I just don't know what to do about it."

Peyton shrugged as though the answer was so simple, "Let's leave town for a few weeks. What do you say?"

I smiled. A trip with her and without the fear…it would be heaven. I nodded, "Can we leave now?"

Peyton laughed and her smile grew, "How about in the morning. I've got some things to do at the office, and I'm sure you need to schedule the store and talk to Millicent."

"Peyton Sawyer…I love you." I couldn't stop myself from saying it and I couldn't stop the blush that came with it.

I wanted to kiss her again, but I knew it would only cause heartbreak for our friendship. I restrained myself and let her holding my hand be enough to carry me through the moment. I didn't know how a few weeks alone with her were ever going to work out, but frankly…I couldn't wait to find out.


	8. Violation

8

Brooke Davis was on my mind for the millionth time. The day had dragged so far and even though I had accomplished a lot, I was ready to be done. The clock on the wall said that it was after 5:00pm. I glanced at the paperwork on my desk and let my eyes seek out the framed picture placed on the corner of the mahogany piece of furniture. It was from the day we moved into the house at the river. Brooke was beaming with pride at what she had accomplished and I knew she was so happy to have me be a part of it.

Brooke always seemed to be happy for me. Even when we were in high school fighting over Lucas, she only wanted me to be honest with myself. Of course, had I been honest with myself, and her, we might not be friends. I had been discovering over the course of the last six months that I was in love with Brooke Davis. Brooke was understanding and compassionate. She was a fighter and yet the most gentle soul I had ever met.

I also knew that there was no way that Brooke would ever feel the same about me. It wasn't possible, was it?

I picked up my pen and legal pad. I stared at the yellow paper. I began to write. All the words I had wanted to say to Brooke. Everything I wanted to tell her I began to write it down. I was cementing it forever. As I wrote I relived every moment I had ever spent with Brooke, the good and the bad.

I wrote for an hour. My hand was cramped when I finally finished. It had been a long time since I had written anything that wasn't on a computer. I reread the letter and knew that Brooke would never read it, and still, instead of tearing it up and destroying it, I folded it up and put it in the pocket of my jeans.

It was a little after 6:00pm when I finally locked the office door and headed to my car. The plan was to meet Brooke at home with dinner so we could eat and pack and figure out where'd we'd go. I had a few places in mind, Disneyworld even popped into my head, but I knew that the best place to take her would be somewhere quiet and isolated. I knew exactly where we'd go.

I got into my car and headed to the Mexican restaurant that we always got takeout from. I couldn't wait to get home to Brooke.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I had been working all day without a break. Dark was beginning to fall and I was thankful that closing would come in a few hours. Millicent had been ever so dutiful in helping me but my nerves were shot. I wondered how much Mouth had told her about my breakdown the previous night and I wondered if Haley and Nathan would be able to stay quiet about my secret.

Randomly, I heard Victoria's voice in my head whispering cruel and evil things to me, calling me a whore and a slut. I hated my mother. I was thankful that so far the day had brought no intrusions from her. Thankful and safe. I knew my mother was capable of anything and that was the one thing that truly terrified me.

"Brooke," Millicent spoke softly, "Since you'll be out of town this week, do you think maybe I can get off work a few minutes early tonight to spend a little extra time with Mouth? He's been putting extra time in at the station and tonight he's actually got the night off."

I glanced nervously around realizing that I'd be very alone, but I knew how much Mouth loved this girl and how much she loved him and who was I to stand in the way of love? I smiled at her and nodded, "Of course. I'll lock up tonight. This place is dead so I might even close up an hour early. Why don't you go ahead and get out of here?"

Millicent smiled at me wide and hugged me. She really was the quintessential face of innocence. She was a good friend too. "Thank you for helping me out this week. You've got your key for tomorrow right?"

Millicent nodded as she gathered her purse, "I do and I have all the codes so you and Peyton have a fun road trip and don't worry about anything, okay?"

I could tell by the gentleness in her tone that Mouth had indeed told her about the night before. I nodded slightly and watched her as she left. I made sure she was safely locked in her car before turning to survey the store. The clock ticked by slowly as I stood there. It was the soundtrack to my night. I tidied up the store and checked the books before deciding I'd had enough of being alone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_**Brooke opened the door and turned to look back at the inside of her store one more time. She was proud of herself for how far she'd come in her life. She was successful. She had friends that loved her, a good business, a massively large bank account. The only thing she didn't have was a mother who cared. And Brooke was officially over it.**_

_**She turned back toward the street only to be pushed backwards by a large man. She screamed in confusion and fear. His black ski mask brought forth every scary movie moment Brooke had ever feared. She stumbled backwards but did not fall. Brooke was about to scream for help when she was struck across the face. She then fell over a display in the middle of the store causing merchandise to scatter everywhere. **_

_**He came at her still, one hit not enough. He backhanded her causing her to cry out in pain, the shock still coursing through her veins. Then he hit her in the side making her back muscles seize up. She cried out, tears working their way quickly down her already swelling face. **_

_**She looked up through the darkness only to see him coming at her again. She could see his teeth through the ski mask, his mouth turned up in a snarl. Brooke knew it wasn't a common criminal. In her heart, her broken, terrified heart, she knew Victoria Davis had sent the devil to her.**_

_**She felt his hands, rough and cruel on her body. Continuously hitting, slapping, beating. She tried to curl into a defensive position. Nothing helped stop the blows that kept coming. The pain became dull as she got used to the brutality of it all. She lost count of how many times she was hit. **_

_**He moved his lips closer to her ear as she fought off darkness, "Where's the tape bitch?"**_

_**Brooke cried harder as his words confirmed what she had already suspected. She tried to shake her head to let him know she didn't know. He hit her again causing her lip to bleed. **_

_**"She told me to do anything to you to get you to talk," his voice was venom, "What will make you talk?"**_

_**Brooke closed her eyes. She would not lead them to Haley or Peyton. She would protect them no matter the cost, "I don't know where it is."**_

_**Her voice was a strangled whisper as he wrapped a hand around her throat, "You're hot. Maybe I'm glad you don't know anything so I can do what it takes to get the information from you."**_

_**Brooke tried to fight back as she realized what he was intending to do. She screamed again and again. He backed off slightly still keeping a tight, painful grasp on her upper arms. His knee dug into the outside of her thigh where he was holding her down. She could feel the muscles beneath the tissue start to ache with the pressure of force. Bruises. She could sense them and knew she'd be covered in them. **_

_**As she was struck again, she knew she was powerless. She was powerless to stop anything from happening. She felt that she had always been powerless and she would always be that way. And as his hands explored her already broken body, she let the tears fall onto an unseeing, unhearing, uncaring world. **_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When I came to, the pain was ferocious. I could taste blood in my mouth and knew that my lip was bleeding. I inhaled to feel sharp pains in my ribs. Cracked? Probably. I took inventory of all the hurt in my body. I knew exactly when I had lost consciousness. I tried not to think about it as I slowly pulled myself onto my knees and pulled my skirt back down. I tried to bury the memory of him pushing it up.

I knew I was now alone in the store. The quietness was astounding. I looked around and saw nothing and no one. The store was a wreck. Clothes had been torn off the racks. Displays had been knocked over. The cash register was open and empty.

The pain was excruciating as I managed to stand. I couldn't let Victoria win. I didn't stop the tears from pouring as I began to clean the store. I knew I should probably stop and look in the mirror, but I couldn't look at myself. I picked up a few displays despite the shooting pain. I couldn't handle the mess, the sudden new memory and nightmare I was dealing with. I began to realize that I must be destined to be someone's victim for life. I locked the store up and moved as quickly as I could to my car.

I thought about Peyton being at home waiting for me and the thought made me feel safe. I looked in the rearview mirror and gasped at the sight of my own face. My eyes were both beginning to bruise and the one on the left was swollen. I turned my eyes back on the street before me and started the car. I wanted nothing more than to be at home with Peyton. Safe and sound, if that was ever possible again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Brooke still wasn't home when I got there with the food. I glanced at the clock. It was after 7pm. I knew the store had closed an hour ago. My heart began to sink as I got a desperate feeling. I dropped the takeout on the counter and grabbed my keys. I had to get to Brooke.

When I arrived at the store, I used my key to get in. I turned off the alarm and turned on the lights. I gasped out loud as I took in the chaotic location of everything in the store. I had to force myself to move through the shock and look for Brooke.

"Brooke?!" I called out into the quietness, "God, Brooke, please answer me, it's Peyton!"

Nothing. God, where was she? I moved behind the counter. The register was open and empty. The safe was open and empty. I checked the back of the store. Brooke was nowhere. I looked outside, her car was gone. I knew calling the police was the most important thing, but when I noticed that Brooke's car was missing I decided to go back home and check there. If she wasn't home I knew I would call the police then.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I let myself into the house thankful for the lights that were on. The smell of Mexican food made me nauseous as I moved through the kitchen and toward the stairs. I climbed slowly up the stairs and made it to my room. I sat down on the bed trying to decide what to do. I knew the police should have been my first call, my first choice, but I knew what I had been through, and frankly I was too tired, and embarrassed and scared to make any decisions.

God…where was Peyton?

I stood up and slipped off my clothes. I wanted to take a shower but the pain was unbearable. I slipped on boy shorts and a tank top and laid down on my bed. I would wait until Peyton got home. I was beginning to get anxious as the seconds ticked off the clock when finally I heard her voice at my bedroom door.

"Oh my God."


	9. 4,999,999

9

Her face…her whole body…, "Brooke, what happened?"

I wanted to rush to her and hold her, but I wasn't sure if anything was broken, besides her heart. She was trying not to cry and nearly succeeding. She was laying on her bed, her barely-there clothes revealing ugly red marks and the tell-tale signs of would-be bruises. I felt nauseous and my hands shook as I stopped myself from reaching out to touch her.

As I stepped toward her she managed to rise to a sitting position. She held herself so gently that I knew that aches and pains must be emanating from every muscle in her body. I took the movement as an opportunity to inventory all the marks I could see. There was a huge angry red mark on her thigh and many more across her back. Both eyes were already bruising and one was swelling. There were four deep red, soon to be black and blue finger marks on her upper arm. There were a mix of bruises and scratches on her collar bone. My heart was pounding with the atrocity that I imagined Brooke had been through.

She finally spoke to me, her voice a soft hoarse whisper, like velvet on snow. She sounded as though she were making sure I was real, or begging me for help, "Peyton."

She was looking at me shyly, and I could see the shame burning through her. I finally got over myself and closed my jaw which had been hanging open the moment I laid eyes on her in the bedroom. I quickly moved to the bed and gathered her in my arms. Her muscles tightened from the pain but she did not pull away, instead she sank so far into me I thought I might lose her within my own soul.

"Brooke? Please," I begged, "Tell me what happened."

Brooke managed to make eye contact with me; her voice was a cocktail of fear with a dash of venom, "My mother happened."

I knew it was true, but I couldn't imagine how she caused this much damage. Brooke answered my question before I could ask it, "She hired someone to come into the store. He was looking for the tape, SD card, whatever. I wouldn't tell him where it was. This is my punishment."

That bitch! I couldn't stop my hand from balling into a fist although I did stop myself from throwing my fist into the wall. The last thing Brooke needed was more violence. I glanced down at her bare legs and realized there were marks on the inside of her thighs all the way up to and probably beyond the hem of her boy shorts. Son of a…

"Brooke, did he…" Damn, I couldn't even say it, "Were you…"

Brooke's tears spoke more than any words could as she finally broke down and nodded. That was the only affirmation I needed that she had been raped.

"We need to go to the hospital Brooke," I knew it was asking a lot.

Brooke didn't look up at me. She continued to keep her head buried in my neck as she shook her head no. I knew why she wouldn't go. The press would have a field day with it, her mother would use it as a way to take over CoB, and Brooke would be left with nothing but the nightmares that screamed inside of her head. I couldn't make her go.

"Okay," I relented, knowing there would be no talking her into an exam. She had been through pure hell in the last few days, first with the recollection of those horrible childhood memories and now this. There was no way in the world I was going to strong-arm her into anything, much less something as invasive as an exam. Oh God, how am I ever going to help her heal?

We sat quietly until finally Brooke's voice, tired and mumbled, broke through the silence, "Let's go away. I want to leave Tree Hill, like we planned. Just for a week or so. Just so I can heal, and think. So there are no questions or stares."

I nodded. I could take care of her. I could nurse her wounds, all of them. I could keep her safe and I could bring her back from this new edge that she was perched on. I knew I could.

"What about the store?" I asked remembering the mess that was there, "Millicent will know something bad happened the minute she walks in."

Brooke nodded and picked up her cell phone from the nightstand. She dialed a number and I listened as she spoke.

"George? It's Brooke Davis," Her voice was cold and monotone. "I need your help on a cleanup. I know it's last minute, but the store was trashed by some high schoolers looking to score cool points with their buddies and I need it cleaned before 9am. Yeah. Good. Still have your key? Thanks George, I'll treat you to dinner in a few weeks. And George? Not a word of this to her, please."

Brooke hung up the phone and nodded slightly at me. Once again my jaw was hitting the floor.

I cocked my head to one side as though that entire conversation would make sense with that one gesture. Finally I asked, "Who's George?"

Brooke didn't smile or laugh. Her face was void of emotions and her eyes were lackluster at best, "Let's just say I know people."

I decided to drop it realizing that my best friend had depths I didn't even know about. I stood from the bed, her hand still clinging to mine. I turned to see her face frozen in a panicked expression. I frowned slightly realizing how scared Brooke was and would be for a while. She didn't want me to leave her side. I was glad that her guard was not up with me. She wasn't afraid to feel what she had to feel in front of me.

I smoothed her hair down with my free hand, "Don't worry, I'm just getting our suitcases and packing us some clothes and things we'll need. Okay?"

She nodded and as I went about packing she watched me making sure I was never out of her sight. I felt horrible. I should have insisted on being at the store with her at least until we knew her mother wasn't a threat. I watched as she stood from the bed and opened a drawer. Every move she made seemed to take its toll on her. She winced and grunted slightly with each tedious motion. The way she held her sides gingerly I knew her ribs must be either badly bruised or even broken.

I rushed to her side, "Let me."

Before I continued I looked at her and debated how to ask the question. I decided to just ask it, "Did…do you want to take a shower?"

I had seen a few Lifetime movies in my day. It's what victims always wanted to do the most. Brooke's bottom lip trembled and I knew it was what she wanted to do more than anything, but she sighed instead and looked at me, "When we get where we're going. I just want to leave Tree Hill as quickly as possible."

I nodded and pulled a pair of jeans out of the drawer and knelt down in front of her. She blushed with embarrassment but slid her foot into the jeans anyway. We worked slowly getting her jeans on both legs and then pulling them up. She buttoned them while I searched for a comfortable shirt. She actually had a drawer of T-shirts in another drawer. I pulled out a concert tee and was surprised.

"Jars of Clay?" I had heard of them. They were a Christian band and I was really surprised Brooke would own a concert tee for a Christian band.

Brooke didn't smile, but shrugged. I shook my head in awe of my friend, surprised that I could be surprised by her. But that wonderment quickly retracted as I looked up at her bruised face again. The gravity of her situation, our situation, was just beginning to dawn on me. I pulled the shirt over her head and she slowly worked her arms through the holes.

She slipped on some flip flops and somehow, even in the very casual garb, something I wasn't used to seeing B. Davis wearing, she looked as gorgeous as ever. Even with the menacing bruises and saddened eyes.

I packed my bag as quickly as I had packed hers and by 9pm we were on the road.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I didn't know where Peyton was taking me and frankly I didn't care as long as I didn't have to see anyone but her. Although her car rode smoothly every bump and jerk in the road made everything in me hurt and hurt bad.

I turned my head away from staring at the darkness beyond the window and instead looked toward Peyton's face. I could see her jaw working, her teeth grinding together. I could tell by the strongman grip she had on the steering wheel she was trying to work through what had happened to me.

I loved Peyton for her belief that the world was still good and how she ached to her core to know that something so horrible went down in my store. I wish I had a less-jaded view of life. But life had held me down far too many times to really think it could ever turn out great.

I didn't realize that a tear was falling down my cheek, or that I could even produce another one until I felt Peyton's thumb softly sweep it from my cold skin. I shivered as I realized how cold I was. Peyton frowned deeper and reached over the front seat into the back.

She withdrew her leather jacket. Ellie's jacket. She handed it to me with hope in her eyes. I took it and managed to slide into it despite the burning and soreness that screamed at me to stop moving. And I thought about the jacket and its meaning, and I thought about the picture she still kept in the pocket of the jacket. I thought about Derek aka Ian Banks, and I thought about Peyton's other mom. If Peyton could still think the world held good after all the things she'd lost in her life, then maybe, just maybe, someday I could too.

My mind kept flashing to various images of the night. Different hits to my body, the moment he pushed up my skirt and began to…

"Brooke? Don't go there. Not now. Stay here in the present with me, okay. You'll deal with it all soon enough. Right now just, feel me here and know that you're safe now."

It worked. Peyton's voice grounded me so well that the memories were temporarily squelched. I knew they wouldn't stay that way for long so I relished the touch of her hand wrapping around mind. How would she ever love me the way I wanted her to, especially after tonight.

My voice was weaker than I meant for it to be, "You must think I'm really weak, huh? I mean, first when I was a kid, and now…"

She frowned at my self-loathing and I was a little shocked and nervous when she jerked the Comet to the side of the very dark and quiet country road. We'd been driving for over an hour.

When the car came to a full screeching stop she turned hard hazel eyes to me, "I know you're hurting right now, and I know there's always self-blame when something like this happens, but you listen to me and you listen good Brooke Davis. You are not now and will never be and have never been at fault for this. Was it my fault when Ian Banks came after me?"

I shook my head, too afraid to interrupt. She continued, "That's right it wasn't. You made sure I knew that then and I'm going to make damn sure that you see very clearly that Victoria and the man she hired are the only ones to blame here. You are not weak. Not in any form or fashion. You are their victim. At least right now you are, but I know that sooner or later you're going to survive this and once again you'll stand strong and you'll fight her with everything you have. You always survive Brooke Davis. It's one of the five million reasons I love you. And every step of the way I'm going to be there. I'm not leaving your side unless you ask me to and even then you'll have a hell of a time getting me to go. So, don't for one second think, feel, or speak as though you are weak, because you never have been and never will be in my eyes. Got it?"

Now that's a monologue. I almost smirked despite the lowness I was feeling, "Got it."

She started the car back up and continued on the way. She left her hand wrapped around mine and it felt good to let her have it. I felt so safe with her. I knew that there would never be any person who would ever compare on any level to Peyton Sawyer. I cleared my throat and looked up at her.

"So, if we have time, what are the other 4,999,999 reasons you love me?"


	10. Uncomfortable

Author's Note: Hey guys! Sorry for taking forever. I had several reviews that thought Brooke should be medically checked out and I couldn't agree with yall more hence the reason I had this in mind already. Here we go…

10

Brooke had been fighting sleep for over an hour. I watched as once again she tried to sit up straight grunting with the effort. I knew she was in a lot more pain than I could imagine and I couldn't begin to surmise where exactly she was hurting the most.

We had been on the road for six hours and were now only twenty minutes from our destination. I rolled down the window to feel the cool air, as Brooke, who had been silent, finally asked where we were.

"We're in Maggie Valley."

Brooke looked at me and I knew she had never heard of it. Brooke's family had always vacationed in Los Angeles and exotic islands. My father and I had always come to Maggie Valley. It was a place that Brooke had never asked about or knew about. She seemed intrigued.

"What's in Maggie Valley?" She asked me, her voice was showing the signs of exhaustion and each syllable seemed to take strength that Brooke simply did not have. I was getting more and more concerned with her medical state of being.

"It's where my dad and I used to come for vacation. We have a small cabin here. It was my grandfather's actually."

I could tell Brooke wanted to ask more but once again her eyes started closing. I reached my hand over and felt her forehead. Her skin burned against my hand.

"Brooke, baby, you have a fever."

"Mm-hmm," was her less than alert response. I knew I had to get her to a doctor. I looked over at her again. Her pale skin was softly illuminated by the dashboard lights. I could see the angry bruising on her neck and face. Her soft hazel eyes opened and stared back at me. I glanced from her face to the road and back again.

I hated to bring it up again but I had to, "Brooke, you have to see a doctor. We have to get you fixed."

I didn't expect her to laugh, albeit a sarcastic guttural snigger, "I can't be fixed Peyton. I think I'm forever and eternally broken."

Her voice was sad and desperate all at the same time. God I hated that bitch Victoria Davis and I hoped she would die an ungodly death.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Peyton was worried. I could hear it in her voice. The more I tried to survey the pain coursing through my body the more I knew she had reason to worry. Everything burned and ached. My ribs were on fire and my head throbbed. I knew she was right. I needed to see a doctor. But I didn't know if I had the strength to go through an exam.

"I'll be right there by your side, Brooke." Peyton was saying something. I must have missed part of what she was saying.

"Where?" I asked confused.

Peyton ran a hand over the top of my head and somewhere in my semi-consciousness I relished the comfort. An image of the masked man invaded my darkness and caused me to sit straight up eyes open wide. I couldn't let him force himself into my world again.

"Okay," I said, not really sure what I was agreeing to, but tired of hurting. At least I knew a doctor could give me something for the physical pain.

Peyton looked more relieved than I had ever seen her. She turned the car around and I wondered how she knew where a doctor would be at three in the morning. Within ten minutes we were in the parking lot of an after-hours clinic in the middle of a woodsy nowhere. There were two cars in the parking lot.

Peyton got out of her side of the car and came to my side to open the door. I hadn't moved. Every muscle in my body was growing stiff and sore along with the already blazing pain of everything else. I tried to take a deep breath but was too tired. I felt Peyton's hands on my legs carefully pulling them toward her. I worked hard to get out of the car and into a standing position. It took everything I had and I practically fell into Peyton's arms. I knew I was losing consciousness. Before I succumbed fully to the darkness within, I heard Peyton's sweet voice and had I not been completely lost in pain, I might have thought her tone indicated something deeper than friendship

" It's going to be okay, B. Davis. I'm going to make sure you get better so I can tell you exactly how much I love you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I began to scream for someone to help us. Within a few minutes two women appeared at the door of the clinic. They scrambled quickly to get to where I was holding Brooke on the asphalt of the parking lot. I looked at the doctor. She recognized me immediately and I was thankful for that. She looked at her nurse and send her to retrieve the stretcher.

Immediately the doctor took over the situation pushing me slightly back so that she could take a good look at Brooke.

"What happened to her, Peyton?" She asked me.

My lips trembled. I knew I had to tell this woman everything, I knew I could trust her, "She was beaten, Dr. Powell."

The woman flashed me a look of concern as she lifted Brooke's Jars of Clay t-shirt and listened with the stethoscope in her hand. The cold touch of the metal on her bare skin elicited a groan from Brooke. The doctor looked at me knowing I was holding back.

The breath caught in my throat as I knew I had to tell Sarah Powell the truth. It was for Brooke's benefit, "She was raped. She was…she was in her store in Tree Hill. Someone came in and they beat her and they raped her."

My tears were uncontrollable. I saw the woman's eyes soften as she smoothed Brooke's hair out of her face. She laid a hand on mine and nodded softly, "Don't worry, Peyton, we'll take care of her."

Dr. Powell and her nurse, Ann, lifted Brooke from the ground and onto the stretcher with hardly any exertion at all. I followed closely along as they entered the clinic and locked the doors behind them. I knew from experience that the clinic doors were always locked from 7pm to 7am.

They transferred Brooke from the stretcher to an exam table. My heart was pounding. I knew if Brooke woke up she would freak out.

"Ann," Dr. Powell addressed the nurse, who looked to be in her fifties just like Dr. Powell, "I need you to get me some morphine see if we can't keep Ms…"

She looked at me, "Davis, her name is Brooke Davis but we have to keep this completely confidential. We have to."

I was starting to panic, feeling like I was somehow betraying my best friend. I looked at the nurse. I didn't know her, so I didn't know if she was someone who would alert the press or not. Dr. Powell looked at me and smiled gently.

"Don't worry Peyton, you can trust Ann. She's my best friend and I've known her all my life. Okay?"

I nodded, only somewhat reassured. Dr. Powell turned to Ann again and nodded, "Let's see if we can keep Ms. Davis calm and slightly out of it."

"Why?" I asked not sure what would happen next. She placed a hand on my shoulder and steadied her eyes on mine.

"Your friend is in a lot of pain. She has very extensive bruising."

I looked at Brooke, knowing that with her jeans and t-shirt still on Dr. Powell hadn't seen anything yet.

"If she told you she was raped then we need to do an exam on her. I will wait for her to regain consciousness because I'm not about to do a rape exam on someone without her consent. As for keeping her slightly out of it for now, I want to make sure she doesn't wake up and start thrashing about. It could injure something further than it's already been injured. Okay?"

I nodded only sort of getting the point. I just wanted her to make Brooke better. I helped the doctor and the nurse undress Brooke. She lay on the exam table in her boy shorts and a sheet pulled across her breasts. She was so exposed. My heart ached for her. Every bruise, scratch and…what the hell is that?

I glanced at her breast as Dr. Powell moved the sheet around to feel of her ribs. There was a…No, it can't be…then I heard Dr. Powell confirm it.

"We've got bite marks on the breasts," my breath became shallow as Ann scribbled in the chart and Dr. Powell covered Brooke's chest again with the sheet.

Dr. Powell was talking and I didn't know if it was to me, Ann, or to herself, "The son of a bitch did a real number on her."

She and Ann photographed all the bruises and marks. They then wheeled Brooke into an x-ray room. I was still impressed with the equipment the small clinic contained. I had to wait outside in the hall as they took the necessary x-rays. I thought about how small Brooke was and how she appeared even smaller lying on a table with only her underwear and a small sheet on her.

I knew the morphine was keeping her in a deeper sleep but every now and then she would make a noise or a groan in pain or response to the hands on her. I wanted to tell her that Dr. Powell and Ann were only helping her that it wasn't the man from the store but wherever Brooke was I knew it was darker than any world I could ever imagine.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I vaguely remember the touch of something cold on my chest. I remember Peyton's voice, so scared and worried. I remember two new voices, women. Thank God.

From there my world drifted into dark and darker places. He was there, the masked man. I remember coming to at one point during the attack in the store, while he was…raping me. He was so vile and violent. Everything he did hurt beyond anything I had ever experienced in my life, even when I had been assaulted as a child.

There he was hurting me in my mind, over and over. I couldn't escape the darkness. I almost missed the physical pain that I wasn't really feeling anymore. I knew that I had been given something for the pain.

The next thing I remember was waking up screaming as I thought his hands were on me again. God I hated those hands.

"Brooke, Brooke, it's okay. You're safe," Peyton's voice reached my ears before anything else hit me. I was sitting straight up and felt little pain.

I turned my face toward the voice and focused my eyes. She stood there, next to the bed, looking like an angel saving a soul from Hell. She wrapped her arms around me and I sank into her. She was my Peyton. My rock, my lighthouse in a very dark, scary storm.

"You're safe, Brooke."

Her voice sounded less sure than she thought it did. I knew with Peyton I would always be safe. I looked around the room over her shoulder.

"Where are we?"

Peyton released me and eased herself onto the bed sitting facing me, "I didn't think you'd remember. I brought you to the local after-hours clinic."

"Been here before?" I asked her interested in the fact that she knew exactly where to go. I noticed a glimpse of embarrassment or shame in her eyes and was about to become concerned when someone appeared at the door.

"Peyton and I go way back," her soft voice had a motherly tone to it. She placed a hand on Peyton's shoulder and I could definitely sense the familiarity there. I was so intrigued that I very momentarily forgot about my situation. She half-smiled at me and I could see the concern in her eyes.

"I'm Dr. Powell," she reached a hand out to me and I held it. I didn't shake it. For some reason I held it and she didn't care. She held mine back. "My nurse and I have been taking care of you."

I was too ashamed to look into her eyes. She hesitated before continuing, "We've looked over your outer injuries and x-rayed you. Nothing is broken in the face or jaw. Everything else with exception to the ribcage looks like it will heal with no troubles. You have two cracked ribs on the left lower side, and several are bruised. You're going to have to take it very easy the next few weeks to let those heal. Meanwhile, I've instructed Peyton on how to wrap them correctly. She's made it very aware that this visit it to remain absolutely confidential. Peyton knows I can keep a secret."

I glanced up at Peyton who was now standing by the bed, while Dr. Powell was sitting next to it. Peyton shrugged and nodded.

Dr. Powell continued and I saw it coming, "Brooke. Peyton told me you were raped. Is that true?"

I didn't care that I was crying in front of a stranger. She was holding my hand and making me feel like for half a second I had a mom. I nodded and managed to choke out a verbal yes.

She waited for my sobs to cease. She relinquished my hand to Peyton who I could tell needed to hold my hand as much as I needed her to.

"I know it sounds horrible and probably will be, Brooke, but you need to have an exam. That way, if ever you change your mind and decide to pursue this with the police, you'll have evidence. Not to mention we can look for STDs and signs of serious physical injury."

I didn't have the strength to argue, "Can Peyton stay. During the exam I mean?"

Dr. Powell nodded, "If it makes you more comfortable then of course she can."

I knew that I was not going to be comfortable no matter who was in that room, but I knew they were right. I had to do the right thing for once. I looked at Peyton who looked beyond uncomfortable. I began to wonder what memory she was reliving or comfort she was sacrificing having to be here, in this place, with me.


	11. Stitches

Author's Note: Another update!! Go me! Anywho…the song in this chapter is Flood by of course Jars of Clay. Thank you all very much for the reviews, it really keeps my head in the story. Thank you!

11

I really didn't want to do the exam. I was feeling more than weary and scared. I wanted to be back in Peyton's car wearing my Jars of Clay T-shirt and jeans and not some thin practically see-through sheet. I thought about the concert I had gone to the summer after Sophomore year in high school. It amazed me that I still had the t-shirt and even more than that I could still wear it.

I had gone to the Jars of Clay concert with some friends I had made that summer when Peyton was on vacation with her dad. Now I know she probably came to Maggie Valley. I wasn't a Christian nor did I have any interest in becoming one. I mean, I prayed and I believed in some form of a higher power, but I had no solid system of beliefs.

However, at that concert I realized there was something missing in my life. It wasn't religion, because I had lost that years before. I thought about the beautiful blonde haired girl next to me and realized it was then, at that concert that I had fallen so in love with her even though she was miles away.

"Brooke?" Dr. Powell was looking at me with sympathy. Her nurse, Ann, had not yet spoken a word. I was so tired of it all and it had been less than 12 hours. I didn't even know what time it was any more. I glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost four in the morning.

I looked again to Dr. Powell, "What did you say?"

Dr. Powell smiled softly, "Are you ready?"

Hell no. What kind of dumb question is that? Who's ever ready for something so damn awful? Going for a yearly check up is bad enough but add the pain and fear and shame to it and you got a whole new set of insecurities and nightmares.

My thoughts ceased as Peyton came into my line of sight. She looked so thin and afraid, and yet so beautiful and strong all at the same time. She had always been and would always be everything to me.

"Yeah," my voice was a lot more whispered than I had meant it to be. I guess uncertainty and shame did that. I moved to the end of the exam table with the help of the doctor and nurse. As I lowered myself to the table and they put my feet into the stirrups, I couldn't look at Peyton any more. I couldn't look at anything, so I closed my eyes and thought about that concert and that feeling of missing Peyton so much I thought my heart would explode. And then I remembered the lyrics to one of the songs and it brought me right back to the present…and the excruciating knowledge that I might never feel whole again.

_**Rain, rain on my face  
It hasn't stopped raining for days  
My world is a flood  
Slowly I become one with the mud**_

_**But if I can't swim after forty days  
and my mind is crushed by the thrashing waves  
Lift me up so high that I cannot fall  
Lift me up  
Lift me up - when I'm falling  
Lift me up - I'm weak and I'm dying  
Lift me up - I need you to hold me  
Lift me up - Keep me from drowning again**_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I looked around the room again before Dr. Powell and Ann helped Brooke move to the end of the exam table. My heart skipped a few beats when they pulled out the stirrups. Brooke looked so ashamed and humiliated. I glanced at my watch trying to avoid her eyes for as long as possible. My reasons were only half selfish ones.

I didn't want her to see the things that I had hidden from her in the past. I didn't want her to know that my sins, both of the big ones, had culminated in me being in this very room that summer we spent apart. I didn't want her to know that I had once survived without her. I didn't want her to know those things because I wanted Brooke to know that there was no way in the world I could ever survive without her again. There would never be another period of two months where I could function without her.

I thought about the letter I had written to Brooke. It was safely snug in my back pocket. I knew I would never give it to her and that I would always love her up close and be in love with her from afar. I just wish she knew how amazing I thought she was and how much my heart and soul felt her pain.

I didn't want to burden Brooke, but the selfish half of me didn't want to see all the pain she was in. I just couldn't grasp how someone could take a soul as beautiful as Brooke Davis' and demolish it. Finally I got over myself and took Brooke's hand as she lay back on the table, her feet in the ominous stirrups. I kept my eyes off of what Dr. Powell was doing and kept them on Brooke. She had her eyes closed and I could feel her hand shaking in mine.

I had never been the murderous type, but God knew that I had rage and murder in my heart at that point. Brooke opened her eyes as Dr. Powell began the actual pelvic exam. Tears, sad large painful tears pooled at the corners of her beautiful eyes. My brunette friend's hand squeezed mine tighter and I knew she wanted to lose herself in me so I let her. I let her hold my hand so tightly that it ached. I let her eyes focus on mine, our tears falling simultaneously.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It hurt. Badly. I could tell the doctor was being as gentle as she could, but there was no way to avoid pain when I had been so brutalized. I was no saint. I wasn't even close to being a good girl. I had been quite promiscuous in high school, but it hurt the same way and with the same intensity that it did when I was a child.

_**Downpour on my soul  
Splashing in the ocean, I'm losing control  
Dark sky all around  
I can't feel my feet touching the ground**_

I opened my eyes as images of him broke into my thoughts. I looked up at Peyton and saw the pain in her eyes as well. Her tears matched mine. I couldn't tell if her heart was breaking for me or if her pain came from the grip I had on her hand. I knew she didn't want to be there and I knew that she wouldn't be anywhere else. That's the definition of a true friend isn't it? Someone who's there even if they don't want to be?

_**But if I can't swim after forty days  
and my mind is crushed by the thrashing waves  
Lift me up so high that I cannot fall  
Lift me up  
Lift me up - when I'm falling  
Lift me up - I'm weak and I'm dying  
Lift me up - I need you to hold me  
Lift me up - Keep me from drowning again**_

I felt Dr. Powell swab this and then her voice reached my inner sanctum, "Brooke, this is…well, I'll be honest, you need a few stitches. And it's going to hurt like hell."

"Stitches?" I hadn't felt any bleeding. Was I that numb?

"Yeah, sweetie. There's some tearing down here and I want to ward off any future trouble from it."

I heard someone exhale slowly and realized it was me. I simply nodded and allowed the tears to fall. "Go ahead."

My voice seemed void of emotions but I knew it wasn't. I knew it was soaked with anger and sarcasm and fear and sadness and humiliation and exhaustion. I was so many emotions that I could no longer feel what I was feeling. I kept a focus on Peyton. She was there, with me in the moment and I knew that she always would be. I didn't blame her for bringing me to this clinic. I would have done the same for her.

_**Calm the storms that drench my eyes  
Dry the streams still flowing  
Cast down all the waves of sin  
And guilt that overthrow me**_

She had been honest. It hurt like hell. All of it did. I was glad when she finally wrapped up the exam. I glanced at my Jars of Clay T-shirt hanging on a chair. I was glad that they weren't going to have to take it for evidence. Apparently he left enough evidence in me that they wouldn't need the shirt or the jeans. I had thrown the clothes I had been wearing when it happened on the floor of the bathroom at home. I would make sure that I put them in a bag and hid them away…just in case.

I was allowed to sit up and felt quite dizzy when I did. Dr. Powell snapped off her rubber gloves and whispered something to Nurse Ann. Ann nodded and left the room. I looked at Peyton and saw nothing but warmth and love in her eyes. I was so ready to sleep. I knew I would probably dream horrible things but there would at least be some minutes of sleep that I would not dream at all….wouldn't there?

Dr. Powell turned to Peyton and I saw that look again, one of sympathy and concern. God what was the history here?

They turned to me and Dr. Powell frowned slightly, "Brooke. I'm not going to lie to you. It's going to take a while for you to heal in the pelvic area. There's some extensive bruising there as well as the stitches. I'm going to give you some pain medication to get you through the next day or so, but be sure to head to the pharmacy tomorrow, or rather this afternoon, so you aren't left in pain. You can come see me as long as you're in Maggie Valley, but I really suggest that you visit your OB/Gyn when you two get back home, okay?"

Ann came back in and handed Dr. Powell a small paper cup with a pill in it as well as a small paper cup of water. I looked at her questioningly. She handed both cups to me.

"It's the morning after pill. I'm sure you know what it is."

I nodded and swallowed the pill quickly. There was no way in hell I wanted to end up pregnant by some monster. I drank the water greedily not realizing how thirsty I had been. Dr. Powell handed Peyton my paperwork and prescription and then left Peyton and I alone so I could get dressed.

As soon as she left the room Peyton was helping me slide off the table. I winced as I began to feel all sorts of pains shooting through my lower half. I wanted to say a lot to Peyton, tell her that I was sorry I had to put her through this and tell her that I loved her and that I was so thankful she was in my life, but for some reason, maybe the drugs, I only wanted to ask her one thing.

"Peyton, what happened to you that you had to come here?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I knew eventually she would ask me. I had seen it in her eyes when she found out that Dr. Powell and I knew one another. Brooke's curiosity had always been her Achilles heel. I found myself trying to look away not wanting her to see me searching for a lie that made sense. But I also found myself not having the ability to lie to Brooke Davis.

I shrugged, "Maybe we can talk about it later. Right now I just want to get you to the cabin."

She nodded and I was thankful that she was willing to let it go for the time being. It had been the summer after sophomore yea. It was a hard summer that I spent alone here in Maggie Valley. I hadn't told anyone where I was going or what needed to be done. I spent a lot of the summer drunk and depressed and still managed to come out of all of it with a clear knowledge about myself and my life.

Brooke let her hospital gown fall to the floor exposing herself completely. It was the first time I had seen the majority of her body in one view since this had all started. She was covered in bruises from her eyes to her shins. I couldn't stop myself from eyeing every inch of her trying to assess the physical damage she had endured. My eyes fell on the bite marks as I picked up her t-shirt.

She covered herself with her arms, "I know I look disgusting."

Damn, my heart fell to the floor with how lost and quiet her voice was, "You don't."

She rolled her eyes as best as she could with the swelling, "Yeah, right."

I couldn't tell her how extremely gorgeous I found her. Despite the bruising on her face and the awful marks that mad man left behind, I was still very attracted to her and that was the last thing she needed to know.

"Brooke," I took her hand in mine forgetting for a minute that she was naked with the exception of a bandage around her lower ribcage. "You are beautiful. These bruises will fade and everything will heal and you'll always be beautiful. Inside and outside."

I slowly pulled her t-shirt over her head being careful not to jar her at all. She held her hands up and let the shirt fall onto her thin, fragile body. I picked up the white cotton underwear that I had retrieved from our bags in the car. I slid them up her legs carefully and never let my eyes fall away from hers. She needed to know she was safe with me. She needed to know that I would never hurt her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I needed Peyton to know that I trusted her and only her. I could feel her fingertips graze my legs as she pulled my jeans on. Her hands were gentle and steady and I felt neither embarrassed nor ashamed that she was helping me. With Peyton, I only felt loved.

When we were finished we thanked Dr. Powell and Ann and made our way into the parking lot. The sun was beginning to barely peak its head over the horizon. Had I not felt so lost and miserable, I would have thought it was beautiful.

Peyton helped me sit down in the Comet and as she was walking around to her side of the car I saw Dr. Powell walking toward Peyton. Peyton moved away from the car and began to speak with the doctor. I couldn't hear what was being said but I knew it wasn't about me.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Peyton," Dr. Powell looked at me with an expression of motherly wisdom, "Are you going to be able to deal with this?"

I nodded and shrugged, "I can deal with it if it means helping Brooke through it."

She smiled that sweet caring smile and nodded, "Listen. I know this isn't going to be easy for either of you. I wrote you a prescription as well, just in case you find yourself backsliding and going to dark places."

I frowned and looked at the piece of paper in her hand. I didn't need it anymore, "That was a long time ago, Dr. Powell. I'm not that girl anymore."

Dr. Powell nodded again, "Yeah. You do seem different. So very strong."

"I don't know about that," I disagreed, "I just know that when it comes to Brooke I can make it through fire for her."

"Is she the one?" Dr. Powell asked finally realizing who Brooke was. "Is she the reason for the turmoil and the confusion and the reason you ended up here?"

I shook my head, "She's not the reason I ended up here. She's the reason I was able to live through it."

"Just…be careful Peyton. I know it's been 7 years, but sometimes the darkness is only so far away."

I shrugged, "The only thing I'm worried about Dr. Powell is keeping Brooke from visiting that same dark place that I did."

She handed me the paper anyway and I shoved it into my back pocket. I knew Brooke was watching the whole exchange and I wasn't looking forward to telling her about that summer. The only interest I had was making sure that Brooke survived and could smile again someday. My summer I wasted in Maggie Valley was not really that important in the grand scheme of our current situation.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I saw her put the piece of paper in her back pocket. Her face looked so pained and sad. I couldn't imagine what they were talking about. Dr. Powell gave Peyton a hug. It looked like one of reassurance, maybe even support, I couldn't be sure. Peyton sat down next to me as my mind continued to analyze the conversation that I couldn't hear.

"What was that about?" I asked suspiciously.

Peyton sat quietly with her hands on the steering wheel staring at the space in front of her. I could see her jaw muscle moving again, her thoughts working over time.

Finally she turned to me and I was relieved to see love still in her eyes, "Brooke. I will tell you what that was about later. Right now, let's just get to the cabin and sleep. Okay?"

I wanted her to talk and to tell me what was going on. Partially to sate my curiosity and mostly to take my mind off the images of the last twelve hours. She took my hand as we got on the road and drove further into the woods at the base of the mountain that I had just seen for the first time.

If she thought I was going to let the subject go, she was very wrong.

We drove in exhausted silence for the next fifteen minutes and soon we came to a gravel driveway that led to a residence I couldn't see yet. We rounded the curve in the driveway and I saw the most beautiful, rustic log cabin I had ever seen. Of course, when you're a Davis, you don't see that many log cabins, so my ability to compare and contrast was limited. But I felt at home and at peace already.

Peyton got our two bags from the back seat and then helped me stand up. I was able to walk just fine, although not without pain. She managed to hold both bags and my hand and unlock the cabin door all at once. I wondered if Peyton would ever know how truly in awe of her I was.

When she opened the door she threw the bags down on the floor and led me inside. It was as beautiful inside as it was outside. The furniture was made from logs just like the house was. The furniture and décor came in shades of bright red and cream. Nothing seemed to dark or woodsy. This place was very feminine considering it had been her grandfather's and was now her father's.

"Is your dad gay?" I asked her amused by the femaleness of everything right down to the beautiful plastic floral setting on the small table near the door.

Peyton laughed out loud at my question and it almost made me smile. Her laugh could heal anything in my world.

She shook her head, "No. Definitely not. Um…it's not actually his place anymore. He signed the deed over to me when I graduated from high school."

"Seriously?"

Peyton nodded proudly at her getaway. I began to wonder if she had spent a lot of time in the place recently. She tugged my hand gently and I followed her to the master bedroom.

"Wow," I whispered, "It's beautiful."

Peyton blushed slightly, "Good. I'm glad you think so. This room will be yours and I'll just take the guest room."

I could feel the panic rising at the thought of having to fall asleep, alone. I quickly grabbed her hand, my heart beating wildly in my chest. "You can't."

Peyton pulled me into a hug immediately knowing the source of my panic, "Okay. I'll stay in here with you. It is a king-sized bed so there's plenty of room."

I think we both knew, considering our history of friendship, that we could have room leftover even if it were a twin bed. "Thank you."

We crawled into the bed, clothes and all, and somehow as she held me to her, I found solace in sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I wondered how long Brooke would sleep. I wondered how long it would take her to bring up the subject of the clinic and my history with it again. I wondered if I would ever be able to let go of my love for Brooke enough to let her fall in love with a man who would take care of her. Mostly I wondered if she would ever feel safe in this world again.

Sleep finally overcame me as well, as one last thought came into my mind. Who would be the one to punish Victoria Davis?


	12. Please

12

I knew there would be a nightmare sooner or later. I didn't realize Brooke and I would sleep for six hours straight uninterrupted. It was lunch time when I opened my eyes to feel Brooke battering the air above her. Her face was contorted with fear. I wondered which monster was in her mind.

I sat up and grabbed her hands, knowing I could risk a black eye of my own. She screamed out my name as though warning me of something and then her eyes opened and focused on my face. She sat up quickly. Her hands, which had been pushing mine away, quickly changed their action and gripped my arms as though trying to find a floatation device in a raging river.

"Hey," I said softly making sure she was truly in the room with me and not stuck in her nightmare. "You're safe here, Brooke."

I saw her eyes darken and flinch at my words and I wondered if that was the wrong thing to say. I brushed her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. She nuzzled her cheek against my palm. She relaxed slightly before reality sunk back into her consciousness. She groaned slightly as she shifted her position.

I examined the bruises on her face and arms in the light of the sun that was streaming through the windows of the master bedroom. Her left eye looked like hell, swelling enough to give it the appearance of a lazy-eye. The right eye was not swollen but was just as badly bruised. Her lip had a small cut on it. I watched her lick her lips as though she was taking inventory of her injuries at the same time I was.

"Are you hungry?" I asked her hoping she would have some sort of appetite. I knew that although food didn't cure anything it sure did make it easier to sort through things if you had the energy to do it.

I was almost surprised when she said, "You know. I think I could eat something."

I couldn't hide my smile as I nodded, "Okay then. Let me see what we have here and then later we can go to the store and get your prescription filled."

She seemed as though she had something she wanted to ask, but she just closed her mouth and eyed the bathroom and blushed. Crap. I hadn't even thought about her injuries and whether or not she would be capable of taking a shower on her own.

"Do you want me to help you first?" I asked knowing already that she did.

She looked very desperate as she mentally debated my question. I knew she wanted my help but I also knew that she hated asking for it. Before I let her answer I said, "Tell you what. Let me get everything set up for you in the bathroom then I'll let you handle it from there while I get lunch ready."

She looked relieved, "Thanks Peyton."

I got the washcloth and towel out for her from the linen closet and turned on the water. I loved the shower in this bathroom. It had three shower heads all with strong pressure. I knew that the longer Brooke stood in the shower the more her muscles would relax and be less sore. I helped her take off her clothes and the white tape that wrapped around her lower ribs knowing that she was still too sore to do it herself.

I helped her step into the shower. As I left the bathroom, I glanced back and saw her lean against the side of the shower. I shut the door. As I laid her clean clothes out on the bed, I could hear her sobs. I wanted to rush back into the bathroom and take her into my arms and tell her it was going to be okay, but somehow I knew she needed to cry. She needed to do that, for herself. She needed those moments alone so that she could feel clean again.

I entered the kitchen and checked out the shelves of the cabinets. There was a huge can raviolis. I checked the expiration date and was very happy to see that they were still good. It had been a while since I had been here but the cleaning service that I hired had a key and kept it in great shape for me, including stocking the cabinets with non-perishables and other canned goods once a year.

I pulled a saucepan from the cabinet next to the kitchen and turned on the stovetop. I picked up the phone from the counter hoping that it was functional. Before I dialed I made sure the shower was still running.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Peyton looked so helpless and I knew how she felt. She closed the door to the shower and I felt the hot water cover every inch of me. I thought about how dirty I felt and how I had been made to feel that way my whole life either by my own actions or the actions of others. The sobs came from nowhere and I couldn't help but sink to the floor of the shower.

I cried for several minutes before eyeing the washcloth and knowing I needed to feel as clean as I could. I started from the top and worked my way down. Each bruise I came to reminded me of how it had been attained. My eyes happened first, when he pushed through my store entrance and hit me in the face knocking me over the display. Then the backhand once I was down.

Then came the bruise to my back and then sides and then ribs and then every other place I can think of. But as I continued to scrub my skin, the worst of the memories was yet to come. I could feel his hands on my thighs.

_**She shuddered as his hands moved slowly up the inside of her thighs reaching for that which Brooke would never willingly give. She fought through her painful haze and pushed his hands away screaming at him to stop. He laughed. It was a sound that would forever be ingrained in her memory.**_

_**He moved his hands back where they were, holding her down with sheer force. He violently pushed up her skirt. Brooke rolled her head back seeking any escape she could. She saw no weapon, no exit, no savior. She pleaded with him to stop. He laughed again.**_

_**"Give me what she wants or I'll give you what you don't want."**_

_**Brooke cried harder, biting down on her bottom lip, tasting the blood there. She would never send this monster to Haley, or Peyton. Brooke's voice was laden with fear and exhaustion, and was barely audible between sobs, "I don't know where it is."**_

_**The man sneered, "Then it's my lucky day."**_

_**Brooke cried out as the man ripped away her underwear with no effort. She fought him as hard as she could before he viciously thrust himself into her. The pain was piercing, taking over her mind, body, and soul. Brooke felt searing pain on her breasts and realized he was biting her as he assaulted her. It was then after several minutes of feeling as though she were being town in two, that she finally found comfort in the darkness.**_

__I turned the water off knowing I couldn't spend an eternity in the shower. I also knew that an eternity in the hot water wouldn't make me feel clean again. It was going to take a lot more than that.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped the oversize towel around me. I wiped the steam off the mirror and stared at my reflection. I knew I felt like hell, and now I knew that at least my appearance matched my feelings.

I let the towel drop slightly and looked at my breasts. The marks were not as hideous as they felt, but it was apparent what had taken place. I couldn't stand to look at myself any more. I took a look around the bathroom just trying to gain a sense of the present instead of the too close past. I almost smiled as I realized there was some framed artwork on the wall. It matched the décor perfectly as though it had been designed for it.

I looked more closely at it and realized that it was a Peyton original. There were two girls sitting on the banks of a large creek. Upon even closer examination I knew it was me and Peyton in that picture. It made me feel a little more alive than I had seconds earlier. The area in the picture was beautiful and I wondered if it was a real place or if it existed only in Peyton's world.

I exhaled and opened the bathroom door. My clothes were laid out on the bed nice and neatly. At least Peyton knew that when my world was chaotic I needed order. I managed to keep the towel on while I slipped on my underwear and jeans. I knew Peyton was going to have to help me tape my ribs so I didn't even attempt to put on my bra and shirt.

I moved slowly to the bedroom door and hear Peyton's voice. She sounded so serious and yet at the same time I knew that she wasn't talking about what had happened to me. I knew she must have been talking to Haley.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Haley answered her cell phone on the second ring, "This is Haley."

She heard Peyton's voice on the other end, "Hey Hales."

"My God, Peyton. Where are you and please tell me Brooke is with you. I've been trying to get in touch with you two."

Haley would have sworn she could hear Peyton frown, "What's wrong? Is something going on we need to know about?"

"So Brooke is with you then?" Haley asked.

"Yes. We're in Maggie Valley. We just…after…well, after everything with her mom and all I just needed to take her away from it all, you know?"

Haley could hear something more than that in Peyton's voice but she chose not to pursue it, "Look. As long as you guys are safe that's all that matters."

"Haley, what aren't you telling me?" Peyton's voice held massive worry.

Haley chewed the inside of her cheek trying to figure out a way to break the news gently, "Well, Brooke's mom came by my house this morning."

"Crap. Haley she didn't do anything to you did she?"

Haley took lengthy mental notes concerning Peyton's tone, "What is she going to do to me, Peyton? I've got the ability to kick her ass, and if I can't then at least Nathan was there this morning. What's going on Peyton?"

Haley waited, listening to Peyton breathe on the other end of the line. Finally Peyton's voice reached her ears again, "Listen Haley. Just be damn careful okay. Don't go anywhere without Nathan or an escort."

"Peyton?" Haley was beyond worried, "What happened? Is Brooke okay?"

Haley could hear the exhaustion in Peyton's voice and knew something had happened beyond what Brooke had already been through. Haley was thankful to God that she had been given the gift of intuition.

"We can talk about it later, Hales, just be careful, please," Peyton sounded like she was begging.

Haley's heart sank, "I will, Peyton, I promise. Just…you be careful too."

"Too late for that," Peyton mumbled.

Haley's heart lurched and she gripped her cell phone tighter, "Peyton how long will you be gone?"

"Until she feels safe, Haley," Peyton whispered.

Haley could tell she was trying not to let Brooke here her and was also trying not to reveal too much about what had happened. She knew Peyton was in a bad situation, and wondered how much worse Brooke had it.

"Just call me if you need anything, Peyton. Okay?"

"We will."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I hung up the phone and turned around to find Brooke staring back at me, "Hey."

She was standing with the towel still wrapped around her top half. Somehow she had managed to get her lower half dressed. I was impressed with her strength. I always was.

She looked at me shyly, "I need your help with taping."

I nodded and took her hand leading her back into the bedroom. I was so glad that she had chosen to completely dismiss the conversation I had been having with Haley. Brooke was disturbingly quiet as she dropped her towel and held her arms out to the sides. I got the tape and scissors from the paper bag of goodies that Dr. Powell had given Brooke.

"Let me know if I hurt you," I didn't mean to sound as nervous as I was.

Brooke's eyes were cast downward. This was awkward for both of us, but I quickly realized that no matter how awkward it was for me, it was a million times so for her. Before I got started I gently lifted her face up to meet mine. I wanted to know where her mind was.

I saw a thousand things in those hazel eyes, but the one thing that burned into me was the shame I could see there. I knew at that moment that I would spend my whole life making sure she knew she had nothing to be ashamed about.

"Ready?"

Brooke nodded and although I could tell she didn't want to make eye contact, it was as though she couldn't look away either. I didn't look at her injuries. I simply focused on the beautiful, vulnerable girl that was standing before me with her heart in my hands. God I loved her.

I finished quickly making sure the tape was neither too tight nor too loose. I helped her with her bra, and then her shirt. There was no wayward glances or lustful thoughts, just me helping the best friend I would never be able to give up.

I sat down on the bed and started to cry. I wasn't sure why, but the tears came without warning. Brooke sat next to me, and held my hand. She was comforting me.

"I'm sorry Peyton," Brooke's voice was so hoarse and quiet. It was so apologetic.

I shook my head and wrapped my arms around her holding her tightly, "Don't you ever be sorry B. Davis. You didn't do anything wrong. Do you hear me?"

I pulled away from her so I could look at her eyes and make sure she was listening, "Brooke, I don't know what I can say to make you understand that this…this shame you are carrying with you is not yours to carry. Shame equals blame. You did not ask for this or want this or deserve this."

"Tell that to all the boys I teased or slept with in high school," Brooke muttered, self-loathing apparent in every syllable.

I couldn't hold back any more. Rage was welling within. I stood and grabbed the lamp from the nightstand and hurled it across the room shattering it into a thousand pieces. Brooke looked shocked.

"Damn it Brooke! Stop! Stop blaming yourself! The sins of the present are not your sins. Please see that!!"

I dropped to my knees in front of her, tears streaming from my face, the emotions burning to the surface, "Please Brooke. Don't let the darkness steal you the way it stole me. Stay here with me. Know that you aren't to blame and that you have no reason to feel shame. None!"

My voice wavered between anger and pleading. The tears didn't interfere with my words, "Brooke Davis. You aren't bad. You aren't a monster. You're the most perfect person I know and I love you so much and what has happened to you, then and now, it's so incredibly wrong. Let me help you. Don't push me away. Let me help you find the light again. Please."

XXXXXXXXXXX

My breath was caught in my throat as this beautiful blonde girl was kneeling in front of me begging me to not fall into the same darkness she had. I fell in love with her over and over again with every words she spoke and yet the only question in my mind was what darkness had she been in?

"Peyton…I" it was as though my voice wouldn't work while hers was strong and adamant.

"Brooke, please." Peyton's eyes were red with the tears that plagued them. Her hands were in prayer formation on her lap. She looked up at me and I couldn't read the myriad of emotions in her beautiful eyes. The one thing I could see was love. Always love.

"What darkness, Peyton?" I asked her finally through my own shimmering tears. "What happened to you?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx

I sat back on my heels practically bowled over by her question. Here I was trying to save her and she was too busy worrying about me.

"Brooke, not now…"

Brooke stood up from the bed leaving me looking at an empty space, "Damn it Peyton, tell me now. I need to know. How did you meet Dr. Powell? What was that paper she gave you?"

I thought back to that summer and my heart filled with true shame. I had read in a study bible once that there is true shame, and then there was false shame. False shame came from when something was done to you and you carried the shame. It wasn't true shame, it was a shame that shouldn't exist because we aren't responsible for what others do to us. But true shame, the shame I had lived through, it came when we were the ones who perpetrated the sin. And I had sinned…big time.

I sighed and didn't move from my position on my knees. I felt as though I needed forgiveness, from Brooke, from God, from myself, I wasn't sure where the source of forgiveness should come from, just that I needed it. Brooke sat back down in front of me and laid her shaking hand on my cheek.

"Peyton, please?"

I reached my hand into my back pocket and pulled out the prescription and handed it to Brooke. She made out the words scribbled in the doctor's chicken scratch.

"Effexor? What is it?" Brooke's eyes were wide and her voice cracked with alarm and fear for me.

"It's an anti-depressant," I stated.

Brooke studied me effectively making me blush, "Why would she prescribe this for you, Peyton?"

"Do you remember the summer after sophomore year in high school?"

It was a start at least. And where better to start than at the beginning. Brooke nodded, "Yeah, you said you were on vacation with your dad."

I was quiet for a moment realizing that I had kept a lot from my best friend. Her expression changed as realization spread over it, "You weren't with your dad. You were here."

It wasn't a question. She was just stating a fact that she knew to be true based on my silence. She waited a little longer before she spoke again. I was glad she was talking because I couldn't find my words.

"Peyton, why did you come here by yourself?"

I inhaled sharply. Damn how did she always know how to ask the right questions? I exhaled slowly trying to buy time. I looked down at my hands and felt her hand under my chin lifting my eyes to her much the same way I had done with her.

"Talk to me Peyton."

It was now or never and since Brooke would never let this go I knew it was now.

"I…Brooke…I…I got pregnant."

"Peyton…"

I watched as Brooke's face fell and turned pale. I didn't want to shock and awe my best friend, but I had to tell her the whole truth and that was how it started.

"It was Nathan's. You know how he was back then and how our whole messed up relationship was. I never told him. Anyway…my dad was out to sea, as usual, and I knew he would be gone for several months. I told you I was coming here with my dad, because I…I knew what I was coming here to do."

Brooke looked at me so kindly which made my guilt stronger. Her bruised eyes searched out my soul, "Peyton, you could have told me. I could have helped you."

I shook my head, "No. You couldn't have because I let the darkness consume me. I was so lost and self-hating that no one could pull me through."

I finally stood up from my position in front of Brooke and walked to the window looking out at the small rose garden in the side yard. My mother had always loved roses. I felt a warm single tear slip down my cheek as I looked at the small cross in the back yard. It was for that life that I had wasted.

"So I came here, to Maggie Valley and I went to see Dr. Powell late at night. She was so kind and understanding. She…she performed the abortion. She promised to keep it confidential although she kenw my father and I didn't have consent. She could have gotten in a lot of trouble for it."

Brooke was standing next to me by the window looking out on the side yard. I felt her hand wrap around mine. She was still shivering and I was nowhere near finished. Her touch gave me the strength that I needed.

"I spent the first few weeks pretending that it was just some simple procedure that I had had done. That it wouldn't affect me or my life, but Brooke…it did. Deeply. I started thinking about my mom and how she didn't get the chance to live and how did I have the right to stop another life from becoming. It was so selfish and yet it was too late. I had no idea at that age what the consequences were going to be.

"I was so consumed with guilt and regret that suddenly the darkness that I was telling you about, it had consumed me. It ate my soul, Brooke."

I turned to face her finally and held both of her hands. She caressed each of my hands with her thumbs and patiently waited for me to continue.

"I was so alone, and lost and in such emotional disarray, Brooke. I couldn't see the light at the end. I couldn't see anything worth living for. So I took a handful of painkillers and washed it down with tequila."

Brooke gasped and I felt her hands tighten around mine. It was as though she was physically trying to keep me in this world, although the threat of suicide was long gone. I swallowed hard.

"I was lucky, because Dr. Powell came by out of the blue to check on me. It had been a few weeks and I hadn't come back in for a follow-up visit. She performed CPR and managed to get me to the ER. They pumped my stomach and released me to her care. I was in her clinic for a week on suicide watch. She had been trying to get a hold of my dad and all I could do was think of alternative ways to finish what I had started.

"Then I got a text message from you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. All our lives Peyton and I were together and invincible, but one summer apart and I almost lost her.

"I remember the text," I told her. It had been after the Jars of Clay concert. I had to text message her. I had to have some contact with her. After all I had just realized I was in love with her.

Peyton smiled softly, that beautiful smile, "You said that you missed me, loved me and couldn't live without me anymore."

I nodded. It was exactly what I had said. And meant.

"Well, that message saved my life," Peyton admitted. "I sat there in that bed thinking about how selfish I was. That I had you and I had to live just so you wouldn't be alone. You saved me Brooke."

I was completely blown away by her confession.

"So please. Don't blame yourself. What happened now was done to you, not by you. Okay?"

I could only nod. My body was shaking with the realization that I could have lost her. I could have lost my P. Sawyer. I threw my arms around her thin frame and hugged her tightly despite the ache in my ribs. She sank into me and I could tell that she was relieved, maybe even unburdened. I wondered how long she would have kept that to herself had it not been for the attack and having to come here. Maybe, just maybe, something good had come from what had happened.

Peyton swiped at her eyes clearing the tears away, "There are raviolis on the stove. You eat while I take a quick shower. We can talk about all this more, later. I laid your medication on the counter in the kitchen. You need to take one before your muscles start stiffening back up."

I nodded and watched her disappear into the bathroom shutting the door behind her. I let the information I had received process slightly before making a move toward the door. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a folded piece of yellow paper.

I knew it must have fallen out of Peyton's pocket when she took out the prescription. Everything in my mind told me to put it down and not to read it, but I was still Brooke Davis and curiosity always got the better of me.

I opened the paper and saw that it was a letter to me. When had Peyton written me a letter? It had to have been before last night, before the…attack. Before I could read it, the phone in the kitchen began to ring. I was torn between reading the letter and answering the phone. Only two people knew we were here, Haley and Dr. Powell, either way it had to have been important.

I folded the paper up and put it in my back pocket. I would read it after I answered the phone. I picked it up and my voice waivered as I said hello.

"Brooke?" I didn't recognize the voice.

"Yes?"

"It's Dr. Powell." She sounded so serious.

"Yes ma'am," I was almost afraid of what she had to say.

"I have some results back from your tests."

Oh God.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Thank you so much for the reviews so far! They're awesome! I hoped this helped everyone's curiosity. Peyton's not completely finished with her story. I mean all the secrets are out there now, but there's still some consequences to deal with.**

**Casandra - You were right on both accounts! LOL. Suicide and Pregnancy. And although I chose Maggie Valley because of the BAM nod, it's also a real place in North Carolina. Glad you caught that though!! LOL.**

**Cellochick373 – Glad you're digging the Breyton. They're so easy to write together. I've tried to write Leyton or Brucas and it just always ends up being about Breyton LOL. Go figure! **

**Stagediva23 – Don't worry there'll be Brathan in future chapters. As soon as I progress it back to Tree Hill, we'll get to see the girls interacting with others. **

**BleedLikeMe – Hi! I understand about craziness! It's why I rarely review and always feel guilty about not doing so because I've been reading some incredible stories around here lately! Plus my 3 year old son just got his tonsils and adenoids out a week ago, hence the updates because he's been limited to being inside and not being very active so I can sit on the couch with him and write! LOL. Glad you've been liking the story and I hope this chapter didn't disappoint.**

**Sheepish123 – You're welcome for the super fast update. So…did the revealing of Peyton's secret satisfy your curiosity?**

**Superstargirl7 – I can't wait to see how Brooke copes with everything either, lol. Seems like sometimes my stories end up writing themselves. She'll be okay…eventually. We all are.**

**Teske – I'm curious too! But you can't stop the Breyton. It just always happens! It'll take a little while, and even when it does happen, they'll have to take it slow.**


	13. I can explain

13

"Brooke?" The doctor's voice broke through my panicked thoughts almost immediately.

"Sorry, yeah, I'm here," I thought realizing that I was now sitting and no longer standing.

I put Peyton's letter in my back pocket and listened for the shower. It had just turned off. I heard Dr. Powell's voice again, kind and gentle.

"I just wanted to let you know that your initial test results have come back negative for infections or disease. You're clean, Brooke."

I didn't feel very clean, "Thank you Dr. Powell. That helps."

"How are you feeling this afternoon?"

I felt my muscles and bruises starting to burn, "I was just about to take the medicine you gave me."

"Good," Dr. Powell sounded relieved, "A lot of people try to be brave and deal with the pain on their own. You don't need to try to do that. You have enough to deal with as it is."

"Yes ma'am," I answered, as I heard the bathroom door open and Peyton step out into the bedroom.

"You just let me know if there's anything I can do for you or Peyton, okay?"

I felt a strange sense of respect and admiration for this woman. She had after all saved Peyton's life, "I will, Dr. Powell, and thank you again."

I hung up the phone after saying goodbye and looked at the Raviolis in the pan on the stove. They didn't look very appetizing. The more I thought about the previous night, the less hungry I felt. I got a glass of water and took the medicine laid out on the counter for me. I thought about reaching for the letter in my back pocket, Peyton's letter, but quickly changed my mind as Peyton came into the kitchen with her hair still wet.

God she was beautiful. I stared at her absentmindedly as she frowned at me. My mind got lost in the million happy and sad thoughts of the life we had spent together. I always thought of Peyton and me as having one life, not two separate lives. Maybe it was a dysfunctional way of dreaming, but I couldn't stop.

"Brooke?" Peyton's face was filled with so much love and concern. "Brooke, are you okay?"

I nodded, not really sure if I was okay. I looked at the hardwood floor beneath my feet. Suddenly the lines and crevices in it seemed so appealing. I felt her slender hands on my arms, gentle but firm. I managed to pull my eyes away from the floor and I looked at her big green eyes boring into mine.

"I'm okay," I lied.

She didn't buy it, "No you're not. Talk to me."

I thought about the letter in my pocket and I began to wonder if it was a goodbye letter, like maybe Peyton was going to move out of the river house and leave me because she didn't want to be a part of my screwed up existence and then I was attacked and she just feels sorry for me and that's why she was still standing in front of me.

I felt ashamed and scared. I knew my lip and chin quivered as I started to cry and I hated being so weak, "I just…"

I paused and she wrapped her arms tightly around me, "It's okay Brooke, you can tell me anything."

I knew I could, "I'm scared, Peyton."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Of course she was scared, "Brooke you have every right to be scared, even terrified right now."

I could feel her shaking her head against my shoulder, "It's not that Peyton."

The tone in her voice was laced with doubt, insecurity and fear, "Than what is it, Brooke?"

"I'm afraid that you're only here out of obligation. I'm afraid that you're going to leave me. That when you do I'll be completely alone and I can't stand the thought of that."

I felt her body trembling in my arms. My God, she was petrified, "Brooke. I would never, could never leave you, for any reason. We are best friends. We have been through so much together and I would be lost without you Brooke, you know that."

If only I could tell her how much I need her and want her forever. I thought about the letter I had written Brooke. I'd have to remember to get it out of my other jeans' pocket. I pulled away from Brooke long enough to look her in the eyes.

"Brooke, believe me, please. You have to believe me. I'm here with you as much for me as for you. I love you and care about you and will never leave you. You're stuck with me sweetheart."

"Good," she muttered as she swiped at a few tears and pulled away. I felt the cold emptiness where she had been and missed the closeness already.

I checked over her bruised face, worse today than the night before. So many things had come to the surface in the last few hours and I wondered if the things I told her had caused her panic about me leaving. I felt a twinge of guilt but pushed it to the side. It was no time for either of us to feel guilty. We both looked at the Raviolis still sitting, untouched, on the stove.

"Yeah," I said as I grinned at her, "I'm not really that hungry either."

She nodded, "Dr. Powell called. She said my initial test results were fine. STD free."

I heard the pain in her voice as she must have mentally pictured the night before. I hugged her again, "That's good news, right?"

She nodded and leaned into me, "Let's go get some movies or something."

I nodded, "We'll stop by the pharmacy first, get your prescriptions filled."

She hugged me, "Thank you Peyton. For being honest. For caring about me."

My heart sank as she disappeared into the bedroom. If she only knew how much I cared about her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I was going to wait in the car while Peyton went into the Walgreen's in the middle of the tiny town. I was going to wait there, but then an irrational fear came over me. What if he was watching me? So I went into the store with Peyton where I was stared at by every person in the place. Fortunately it wasn't too busy, but ten people taking their time to investigate my face were unnerving as hell.

I sat in a chair while Peyton paid the pharmacist and grabbed my hand. She led me out of the store and across the street to the local video store. I wasn't sure what I wanted to watch, but Peyton seemed to know what I needed. The video store clerk, and apparent owner of the place, greeted Peyton with open arms. She was a plump middle-aged woman with a warm, happy grin.

"Well, hey there Ms. Sawyer. I was wondering when you were coming back. Got your favorite movie in if you want it."

I looked at Peyton with a curious half-smile. I realized that I didn't know what her favorite movie was and it made me a little sad. The woman finally turned her attention to me. Her smile fell and then picked up again.

"Tell me this is the famous Brooke Davis," She looked at Peyton expectantly. Peyton looked at the floor with red cheeks and nodded.

So, she had been talking about me to the people of Maggie Valley, "Hi."

I didn't mean for my voice to sound as shy as it did. The woman stuck her hand out to me and smiled, "Joanie. Joanie Kenner. Peyton here used to talk about you all the time. Every time she came in here to rent her favorite movie, we'd talk about you. Always good. I promise. You're as pretty as I imagined."

I could see Peyton silently pleading with the woman to be quiet and I was slightly amused by it. I hadn't realized how much Peyton thought and talked about me. And still, I knew it was probably less than I thought about and talked about her.

"Joanie," Peyton finally spoke, "I think we're just going to get a few comedies."

"Suit yourself, but you know _**Kissing Jessica Stein**_ is as much a comedy as a romance. And you know it's always on hold for you. Then again, I don't know why you don't just buy a copy for yourself."

I nearly choked on the laughter in my throat that I was holding down. Peyton couldn't have been any more shades of red. I nodded and looked at Joanie, "We'll rent it."

Peyton blanched and kept her head down as we picked out a few more videos. I pondered the possibilities of my best friend renting that particular movie and chose not to get my hopes up too much. I thought about the kiss we had shared several nights before. I shook away the thought and remembered the bruises on my face and body and knew that there was no way my best friend could ever love me like that. Especially now.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

I wondered if Brooke was feeling as hungry as I was. We had watched two of the movies we had rented. I had taken my so-called favorite movie and put it away from the others. I didn't want to watch it with Brooke. Not yet. I couldn't tell if Brooke had gotten any hints that Joanie had been dropping like H-Bombs. I prayed she had let them pass by without a second thought.

I was and had been for a long time in love with Brooke Davis. And every one in Maggie Valley who knew me, knew that information. Too bad I couldn't share it with Brooke.

"I'm hungry," Brooke spoke as the credits to _Dumb and Dumber_ rolled.

Thank God. "Good. I'm starving. Want burgers?" I asked, thinking of drive-thru expediency.

She nodded, looking tired, "Sounds great. Let's go."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

We got back to the cabin in ten minutes. The darkness that surrounded it was disturbing and at the same time comforting. I knew there was no way that my mother would ever find us here, if she were looking. We sat down at the table and began to eat. I watched Peyton take a large bite of her burger and I knew she was starving and she had been waiting for me to be hungry to eat.

"Peyton," I was feeling brave as I remembered the letter in my pocket. "Can I ask you something?"

Peyton swallowed her bite and took a drink. She looked at me and nodded, "Sure, B. Davis, you can ask me anything."

I sighed, not sure if she would tell me the truth or not, "Why have you been talking to people about me?"

I knew she had missed the playful smile on my face when she put down the French fry she was about to eat and looked down at her lap bashfully. She cleared her throat and I was almost afraid of what she would say next. But then she spoke and I fell even more in love with her than I already was.

"I met Joanie that summer. The summer I spent here, the summer that I almost…anyway. I met her that summer and she kind of took me under her wing. She let me talk, she listened very well. And when you saved me with that text message and I got out of the clinic I ran straight to the video store and told Joanie all about you and how you saved my life and how I could never…"

I was definitely paying attention and everything inside of me wanted her to finish what she was saying. I didn't force her, I let her continue on her own. She managed to bring her eyes up to meet mine and I sank into her gaze.

"I told her how I could never live without you. Joanie said she had a friend like that and then she recommended that movie to me, the one she refers to as my favorite movie. I didn't realize that it was about…"

"A same-sex couple? Yeah, I've seen it."

She looked at me with a strange expression that I couldn't quite read. She then shook her head as though denying herself something. She continued, "I never set Joanie straight, so to speak, so she still thinks that you and I were…are…"

It was my turn to blush. God if Peyton only knew how much I wanted that to be true. But I knew she wasn't feeling the same way. I smiled and shrugged as I ate a bite of my hamburger, trying to feign an appetite so I wouldn't worry my best friend.

"That's funny. So I wonder who Joanie's 'friend' is."

Peyton shrugged, "Marilyn. She works at the hardware store."

I laughed slightly, "Talk about your cliché."

Peyton smiled too, "I know right?"

I let my beating heart still slightly before popping a French fry into my mouth. We ate in semi-silence the rest of the meal. When we were finished we sat on the couch. We talked about how I was doing and then how Peyton was handling being back in Maggie Valley.

"As long as I'm here with you Brooke, it's okay. I just wish I could have brought you here under better circumstances."

I nodded, "Me too P. Sawyer, me too."

And with that I drifted off with my knees drawn to my chest, her arms wrapped around me and a tired, scared feeling in my soul.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Several hours later, I startled awake, choking down a scream. I wanted to throw up but I didn't want to disturb Peyton, so I slipped away from the couch and took the blanket sitting on a chair. I looked back and saw that she wasn't exactly in a peaceful slumber either.

I opened the front door and slipped onto the porch. I closed the door and looked out onto the darkness beyond. Every star in the sky shined brightly back at me and I was oddly calmed by their presence.

My bare feet were already cold. I wrapped the blanket around me and slid Peyton's letter from my back pocket. I sat down on one of two rocking chairs I held the letter tightly in my hand. I thought about what it might say, almost too scared to read it. I imagined being 70 years old sitting on this porch rocking with Peyton and laughing about our Lucas-retardation.

I wondered if the letter in my hand would affect that picture. I knew it was an important letter, otherwise Peyton would have given it to me already. Peyton was never a letter writer, she was an artist. Her pictures were her story. But this time, as I unfolded the paper I took in the loops and curls of each of Peyton's letters. She had poured her heart out to me…for me.

_Dear Brooke,_

_You have no idea how many times I wanted to write this letter. I would start it and throw it away always afraid of what my heart would say to you if it could say anything at all. But as I sit here in my office counting down the minutes until I get home and get to see you tonight, I realize that I have to get these thoughts on paper so maybe one day I can understand it all._

_Just a few days ago you remembered the nightmarish things that happened to you as a child. And as I sat with you and held you I knew I could never let anything or anyone hurt you again. Your friendship is so important to me. And although I know my heart feels more for you than friendship I can't let you know because I don't want to ruin what we do have, even if that means never getting to be with you the way I want to be with you. _

_I wish I could tell you all the things I need to tell you but there's never enough time, never enough words. Your strength and courage, it amazes me on a daily basis. When you come up fighting every time, I am always in your cheering section. When you smile even though you aren't feeling so great, it melts my heart. Your eyes sparkle when you do something charitable, which I have found is more often than not. _

_I could tell you what I love about your heart, but I think I'd run out of paper. What I can tell you is that I love your smile, your eyes, your heart, your walk, your voice. I love how you read only the entertainment section of the Sunday paper. I love how you raise your eyebrows when you're challenging something I've said. I love how you love ridiculously cheesy chick flicks and how you sing in the shower…on key by the way._

_I love everything you do and say and how you dance and laugh. God, Brooke, I love you. I love how when I'm with you I'm the most perfect me I can be. I'm only me when I'm with you. I thought I was in love with Lucas, maybe I was, I don't know, but as I think back on our every moment together since we were kids, I know now that you have always been the one true thing in my life. Every ache and pain you have helped heal sometimes even unknowingly. _

_That day in the school when I was with Luke, during the school shooting, it was you I had to live for. I thought about how guilty you would feel and I had to live to tell you that it wasn't your fault and that I didn't want to ever leave you. When I confessed at Nathan and Haley's engagement party…what I should have confessed, instead of the lie I told you, is that I have feelings….for you. I'm in love with you Brooke and as I look back on every incident we've shared, I know now that it was always you. It always will be._

_I know you can't possibly feel the same, what are the chances, but if you did, I know I would live everyday of the rest of my life making you happy and safe. I would be there for you through anything and everything. And even if I can't kiss you again, like I did the other night, I'll be satisfied with simply being near you, because I could never and will never love anyone the way I love you._

_Maybe one day this letter will find its way to you. If I have any control over the situation you won't see it. But if you do and you don't feel the same, then please, please don't let it affect our friendship. I love you too much for that. Maybe I should never put my words on such a concrete thing as paper, but if by chance something should ever happen to me, I want you to know, really know, how madly deeply and forever in love with you I am._

_Yours, _

_Always and Forever,_

_Peyton_

I felt my breath catching as tears began to fall. I couldn't believe it. My hands shook as I reread the letter. I really couldn't believe it. I heard a sound behind me and I turned sharply scared of what it could be. I saw Peyton standing in the doorway, her eyes shimmering with tears. Her face etched with fear. Her voice was the very definition of uncertainty.


	14. Are You Sure?

Author's Note: Alright then! Better late than never at all, right? Sorry about the tremendous lack of updating, but here's something for now. Let me know if it's worth continuing…oh who am I kidding, whether you like it or hate it, I'm going to write it. It might take me forever to update again, but it WILL get written.

Thank you to all of you who have been reviewing and/or reading. I really appreciate it and I like to entertain and affect people. Thank y'all.

Jill

14

When I first opened the front door, I was able to look at her without her noticing me. She was so beautiful as she sat their holding that letter reading…oh my god.

"Brooke, I can explain."

I looked into her eyes trying to gauge her reaction to the words written on that fateful piece of paper. My hand absently flittered to my back pocket and there it confirmed that the letter in Brooke's hand was indeed my yellow sheeted confession. My stomach turned as I wondered what she was thinking.

Her bruised faced searched mine for the explanation I had just promised. I had words and feelings and fears and they were all working together to keep my lips firmly shut. I moved further into the coldness of the night and didn't flinch when I got a chill.

Brooke looked at me with those big eyes, drenched in tears. I couldn't tell if that was hope, or horror. Please God. Let it be hope.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There she was, every glorious inch of her. Her face was etched in confusion, even panic. God…why couldn't I have read this sooner, like before last night. Why couldn't I have known that Peyton loved me as much as I loved her and in the same way.

How ironic the tides of time can be. Here I was, damaged and dark, and there she stood, hopeful and bathed in the light of love. I wanted to hold her and let her light save me again and again and again, but I stayed sitting in that rocking chair with that blanket wrapped snugly around me, feeling no warmth whatsoever.

I wanted to wrap my arms around her and thank her and tell her I've felt the same way for a while now, but something inside me wouldn't let me speak.

"Brooke?"

I didn't want to break her heart but it was the only way I knew to keep her safe. I knew I needed to keep her safe from the darkness that surrounded me. But before I could lie and tell her I didn't feel the same, I thought about the consequences that lie could have. It was Peyton. My Peyton. Not only would I be killing my own soul and hers, but a lie might drive her to try to end her own life, again.

I stood up finally, my fears giving way to more fears. I looked at her through the tears that I couldn't seem to stop from flowing. I felt the bruising on my face. The swelling worse now than it had been at any point in the previous 24 in hours. My body ached and protested with every movement I made. But I stood strong and faced her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I couldn't even feel the cold air whispering over the goose bumps on my arms. All I could feel was the intense feeling coursing through my veins. Moment of truth time where the person I loved more than anything and anyone in this world would tell me that she either loved me too, or couldn't stand the sight of me anymore.

She had finally moved and I could see the physical pain etched on her face with every twitch her muscles made. She stood facing me but still more than three feet away from me. I could see her contemplating her choices, her decisions. I couldn't believe my stupidity with that letter. I should have burned the letter when I remembered it. She didn't need to deal with anything more than she was already dealing with. She should not have to worry about this or my feelings. She should only be worried about healing.

"Brooke, I'm sorry. I didn't intend for you to…"

"Shut up, Peyton."

Her words shocked me. Her voice held no malice, no anger, and no worry at all. I studied her face as my heart raced intensely. Her mouth was slightly turned up at its corners. She was smiling.

"But…"

Brooke managed to come as close as she could to me, still wrapped in that blanket. She laid her head on my shoulder and after a few moments of silence and confusion, I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly trying not to hurt her at the same time.

It stayed quiet for a few moments before I finally heard her sobbing. I was really confused. And then it hit me like a ton of proverbial bricks. My timing was crap.

"Look, Brooke. You don't have to say anything now. You don't have to be happy about this, or sad, or mad. Seriously on the mad part, because mad Brooke scares me. We'll just wait until we get you through what happened to you last night. This is not something we need to be dealing with right now."

She punched my shoulder as she moved away from my embrace and it wasn't a light hit. I rubbed my shoulder as I looked at her not even trying to hide the questions that I'm sure she could read on my face.

"Ow," I said softly.

"Damn it, Peyton."

She looked like she wanted to say more, but I could tell she wasn't sure how to form the words. I wanted to know what she had to say. I wanted to know what was making her sob so hard. But although her lack of words confirmed nothing for me, I knew it was all about what had happened the night before. And with that thought, hope arose in me again. If it had to do with the previous night, then there could still be a possibility that she loved me. Couldn't there?

She moved past me and went back inside. I followed her not wanting to lose the moment. She moved into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. I stood at the doorway, afraid to move any closer, afraid that it would all end if I sat next to her.

She still had the blanket wrapped around her and I waited for her to speak.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I wanted to tell her that everything she said to me was what I had wanted to say to her all along, but I couldn't. All I could think about was how ugly I must look and how that letter had to have been written before I had been attacked. I could only think about how I didn't want her to feel like she had to stay true to the words in her letter when surely she must feel differently tonight.

And so I spoke as I looked at the letter still in my hands, "When did you write this?"

Peyton looked at me almost bashfully and I could tell she was trying to figure out where my head was at. Her eyes stayed on me despite the fear on her face.

"I wrote it yesterday…when I was at the office."

"Before I was…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That was it. The timing of it all…confirmed.

"Yes, it was before you were attacked, but Brooke…that doesn't…"

"It's okay Peyton," Brooke looked sadly at her hands, "We can just pretend that I never read it. We can just…"

"Pretend you never read it?" I couldn't believe this, "Wait. Brooke, how do you feel? How do you feel about me?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The truth and only the truth, "I love you Peyton. I always have and I always will, and more than that I'm in love with you and nothing could ever change that."

I said it. I allowed myself to be honest with my best friend. I could see the immense relief and happiness in her eyes and it gave me some pause. It gave me a reason to hope.

"Brooke, what happened last night…it doesn't change that letter. Not one word in it. I love you even more today than I did yesterday and I'll love you more tomorrow than I do today. I love you…I'm in love with you. That can't change."

Her words were like stitches in my torn soul, "So we're in love with each other?"

Peyton nodded and although I could tell she wanted to jump for joy, she held back. I couldn't help but wonder how it was all supposed to go from here.

"What do we do now?" I asked her, not really sure enough of myself to make any plans.

She sat on the bed next to me and draped her arm around my shoulder making me feel safe, "We don't worry about it right now. We get you healed and better and then we'll deal with it. But Brooke, now that I know. Now that I've heard it from your lips, I will never let you go. I will hold onto you and fight for you no matter what."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

I was ecstatic. The girl I thought could never be mine, was all mine. She loved me too, and she was in love with me. But as I looked over her battered body, I knew that all the happiness and joy would come in time. A long process was still before us.

I hugged Brooke tightly feeling her relax instantly in my arms. Before I could say anything or suggest sleep, Brooke laughed softly.

"Wanna watch Jessica Stein?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Haley exhaled loudly hoping that if Nathan was awake he would ask her what was bothering her. Her hoping came to fruition as the exhausted boy rolled over and sat up on his elbows. He peered through the semi-darkness at his wife.

"What is it, Hales?"

She sat up and turned on the lamp beside the bed giving them both instant eye pains. She got over it immediately and looked at Nathan.

"I'm worried."

Nathan nodded and sat up as well leaning back against the headboard, "About Brooke, I know."

Haley shook her head, "It's not about the other night. It's not even about what her parents had done to her. Something else is going on. Something new and just as horrible."

Nathan shrugged, "Maybe it's your imagination."

"Nathan, weren't you listening when I told you what Peyton said about keeping a bodyguard with me? Something happened to Brooke. That's why they went to where they are."

"Maybe Peyton's being overdramatic?" Nathan knew Peyton was rarely overdramatic about anything. If anything, she laughed at drama queens. Nathan's role as devil's advocate came from the fact that he didn't like the idea of the two girls he thought of as sisters in any kind of danger, and he especially didn't like that there was a possibility of that danger reaching his wife.

Haley could see that Nathan was just as worried as she was, "I think Brooke's mom got to her somehow. Hurt her even. I don't know."

"Look," Nathan spoke in his reasonable tone, "Even if something happened, and I pray to God it didn't, "I don't think you sitting up all night worrying about it is going to help."

"True," Haley agreed. She smiled a little as something more lighthearted crossed her mind, "Do you think Peyton's as in love with Brooke as Brooke is with Peyton?"

Nathan's eyes sparkled with mischievousness, "Definitely."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Brooke and Peyton had packed the car, eaten breakfast gotten showered and dressed and left the cabin all in a matter of an hour and a half. Brooke's bruises were even darker and more menacing than the day before. Peyton had winced with Brooke as she had wrapped her ribs after Brooke's shower. She had ached all over as Brooke slowly got dressed revealing one bruise after another. Bite marks glared and scratches screamed. Peyton hated Brooke's mother and whatever monstrous beast she had hired to do this to her beautiful B. Davis.

They had talked into the wee hours of the night about what actions they should take together to help Brooke heal from what had happened to her and because neither of them could ever say the word, they knew that rape wasn't something that would be recovered from quickly. Brooke had been the one to decide that she would have press charges. It wouldn't matter what kind of field day the press would have with it. Nothing mattered but peace of mind and justice.

They pulled into the parking lot of the afterhours clinic, and were relieved to see Dr. Powell's car still there. Peyton looked confidently at Brooke.

"Are you sure?" she asked the brunette.

Brooke nodded a look of fear and sadness etched across her face, "Yeah, I'm sure."

They got out of the car and entered the clinic. Dr. Powell came from the back office as she heard the bell ringing.

"Peyton and Brooke," She smiled gently, "It's good to see you, I think."

She looked them over waiting for a reason for their visit. Peyton looked at Brooke and knew she'd have to be the one to do most of the talking.

"Hi, Dr. P. We are heading out of town and needed to stop by and ask you to do a favor."

Dr. Powell sat the files down she had been holding in her hands, "Sure, anything."

Brooke's broken hoarse voice cut in, "Can you…could you please overnight the…my…exam…my r…r…rape kit to Tree Hill?"

Dr. Powell's face softened even further and she placed a gentle, caring hand on Brooke's shoulder, "I'll do it immediately. I actually think there's a courier service here that can have it to the Tree Hill PD before you can even get there."

Peyton nodded. She would have taken the kit herself but knew there must be legal procedures involved to protect the chain of evidence. She had watched CSI once or twice.

"Thank you," Brooke's voice was even softer now that she had used the word rape referring to herself. She left the building and returned to the car leaving Peyton with Dr. Powell.

Peyton thanked Dr. Powell once again and hugged her tightly promising to see her in a few months when she and Brooke dealt with what needed to be dealt with.

Back in the car, Peyton found Brooke staring out the passenger window tears hanging on for dear life. Peyton didn't have to say anything, she simply held Brooke's hand and guided the car onto the road heading toward Tree Hill and the hellish reality that was sure to face them.


	15. Retelling

15

The darkness of night surrounded us as we entered the quiet emptiness of the Tree Hill Police Department. My hands couldn't have been shaking worse than they were, despite Peyton holding one of my cold hands in her warm one. I looked at the man behind the report desk and frowned. I wanted to scream and be angry and demand that he get out there and catch my attacker, but a part of me, a small part of me knew it was my fault…it had to be.

Peyton spoke for me, "We need to speak to a detective."

The man looked over the desk and into my eyes. It hurt the way he examined my face and neck. I'm sure he would have looked over my entire body had I not had it completely covered. I swallowed hard as he grimaced taking in the various bruises and marks on the parts of me he could see. Then his face softened. I wasn't sure what was harder to handle, the annoyance he first had, or the sympathy he then exuded.

"Give me just a second, girls," he said as he moved quickly to a side door and disappeared behind it making my nerves shoot through the roof.

Within seconds he returned and asked us to follow him. Peyton was strangely quiet and yet I could tell she was trying to be strong for me. I loved her so much in that moment. We followed the heavy set man through the same door he had disappeared behind earlier. As we turned through several halls, my heart rate increased knowing what I would have to tell them, knowing I would implicate my mother. I had plenty to implicate my mother.

We were led into an interrogation room and treated with kindness. Not once was Peyton asked to leave. We sat across from two detectives, a woman and a man. He was quiet, kind, non-invasive. She was the one with the questions, the lead. The questions started coming fast, and I was uneasy, even nauseous. I could feel Peyton's presence next to me. I didn't know how she would be able to handle hearing it all again. I wasn't sure how I was going to say it all again.

The female turned on a recorder and looked at me with soft, kind eyes, "Ms. Davis, can you tell me how you obtained the bruises on your face and body?"

I nodded and licked my extremely dry lips, "I was attacked in my store."

I really wasn't ready to talk about it but I knew it was now or never. Victoria had to be justly punished, "I was walking to the door to close up for the night when a man in a ski mask barreled me over and knocked me onto the floor."

"Did you scream or call for help as he came in?" The female detective was thankfully the one asking all the questions and she didn't sound as though she was trying to be accusatory.

"I screamed," I tried not to visually recall the attack as I verbally recounted it, but some things couldn't be helped. "But then he knocked me over and before I could scream for help he hit me the first time."

The memory flooded my mind as I recounted every single small and large detail of the entire event…

_**"I screamed in confusion and fear. His black ski mask terrified me. I was about to scream for help when he hit me across the face. I fell over a display in the middle of my store and clothes went everywhere.**_

_**He came at me again. It was like one hit wasn't enough. He backhanded me leaving me seeing stars. I've never been hit so hard in my whole life. I was laying on the ground still. He came at me so fast I never had a chance to stand back up. He hit me in the side .I couldn't move from the pain. I could feel my face was already swelling. I didn't know what to do or how to get away."**_

__I could feel Peyton's hand slide over mine as she kept her eyes on the table. I knew that this entire thing was almost as hard on her as it was on me. Almost. I looked up at the detectives. They were both furiously scribbling in their notepads. I continued.

"I_** looked up through the darkness only to see him coming at me again .I could see his teeth through the ski mask they were stained yellow and crooked and his breath reeked. I knew he was some common criminal and at the same time I knew that my mother was behind it."**_

__"Your mother?" the male detective finally spoke.

The woman interrupted him, "We'll come back to that later, let's get through the recount of the attack first."

I nodded, appreciative of the woman's sensitivity.

_**"I could feel everything through the pain. His hands were rough, calloused. He kept hitting me, slapping at me. He was cruel. I tried to to protect my body the best I could, but he never let up. Nothing helped stop the blows that kept coming. I got almost used to the pain and I lost count of how many times he hit me. **_

_**He asked me, "Where's the tape bitch?"**_

"What tape was he referring to?" The man asked. This time the female, Detective Jaurez, looked to me for the answer.

Peyton interjected, "A few days earlier I had recorded her mother, Victoria Davis, revealing some extremely incriminating evidence. It was a digital recorder so I put it on an SD card. I guess she assumed it was a tape recorder and sent this animal in to retrieve it."

"Did he get this alleged incriminating evidence?" Detective Juarez asked.

I shook my head no, "He couldn't get to it. We gave it to a friend for safekeeping."

"We'll need that card brought in," Detective Martin stated.

Peyton nodded, "I'll make the call as soon as Brooke's done with her statement."

I had to continue…

_**He sounded like a snake, evil at the very least. He said "She told me to do anything to you to get you to talk. What will make you talk?"**_

_**I knew I couldn't lead him to Haley or Peyton. I couldn't let anything happen to them so I told him I didn't know where it was. That's when it got really bad. He wrapped his hand around my throat not leaving me a whole lot of breathing opportunity. He said, "You're hot. Maybe I'm glad you don't know anything so I can do what it takes to get the information from you."**_

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

My eyes wandered to Brooke's face as she continued to speak. My heart broke with every detail and every strained, whispered word she spoke. I ached for her loss and her pain.

_**"I tried to fight back even harder once I realized what he was going to do to me. I screamed again and again. He still kept a tight grip on my arms. His knee dug into the outside of my thigh where he was holding me down. I knew there were going to bruises everywhere. I could feel them being made, each and every one of them. **_

_**I felt powerless as he hit me again. He put his hands on my…on my thighs. He moved them…up. I screamed at him to stop. I begged him to leave, to stop, he laughed. I'll never forget that laugh. Never. **_

_**He pushed up my skirt while he held me down. He was strong, too strong for me to escape. I just kept fighting and screaming. He said, 'Give me what she wants or I'll give you what you don't want.'**_

_**I couldn't do anything but cry at this point and tell him again that I didn't know where the card was .And then he said, 'Then it's my lucky day.'**_

_**He…he ripped…he ripped away my underwear. And then…he…started…he raped me."**_

__God how I hated this. Every second of her having to relive this nightmare brought me one step closer to being a murderer. I was helpless as she fought her way through the memory and stammered out the words. And I knew she wasn't finished. She gave the detective the small details. The ones that I hadn't heard yet the ones I wasn't sure I could bear to hear. But I knew if Brooke had to tell them then I had to hear them. It was only fair.

_**"I felt like my whole soul was being invaded. I felt this…awful, burning pain on my…on my…my breasts and I realized that he was biting me. As he…r..raped me, he bit me. I felt like he was ripping me in half. And then, then I lost consciousness. I woke up and heard him say, as he left, 'Have a good night.' And then I blacked out again.**_

_**I managed to regain consciousness and drove myself home. Peyton came in later and we drove to a clinic in Maggie Valley."**_

__I spoke again trying to calm my shaking heart and hands, "You should have the rape exam here already."

Detective Juarez nodded slightly, "We do and it's been sent to the labs already. Peyton? Think you could make that call now?"

I nodded but didn't want to leave Brooke by herself. Detective Martin smiled at me and it calmed me ever-so-slightly, "Don't worry, we'll take good care of her while you're out."

I looked at Brooke and refused to move until she nodded at me. I exited the room and went straight to the phone in the office they told me to use. I dialed Haley and Nathan. I was relieved when Nathan answered the phone because I wasn't ready to answer Haley's questions.

"Nathan, it's Peyton." He sighed on the other end of the line and I wondered how worried Haley had been. Before Nathan could ask questions on Haley's behalf, I started talking again, "Look, I need you and Haley to bring the card to the police station. We're here and they need it."

Nathan's voice was like an angel, as he spoke calmly and kindly, "Just tell me you guys are safe right now."

I wondered if we would ever be safe again, "Right now…yes, right now we're safe."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

As we waited for Peyton to come back, Detectives Martin and Juarez asked me a few questions about my mother.

"Brooke, what kind of evidence do you have against your mother?"

I exhaled a breath I hadn't been aware I was holding, "When I was a little girl…my parents sold me to the highest bidder several times a year until I was 12."

I didn't realize cops could be shocked, but apparently in Tree Hill some things were simply unheard of.

When the shock wore off their face Detective Martin finally asked, "And this SD card, it proves this."

I nodded, knowing that my word would never be enough, "Yes. She's cold and calculated and business is everything to her. Love of money is truly the root of all evil. And Victoria Davis is as evil as it gets."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I could tell by the look on their faces that Brooke had told them about what had been done to her as a child. I sat down next to Brooke and listened as the detectives told her what would happen next. They were going to wait for the card to get there, listen to the recording, and then proceed. Detective Juarez looked at Brooke as she was about to leave the room.

"He said, 'Have a good night?'"

Brooke nodded. I could tell that the detective had heard that before. She looked at Brooke again, "I know you're tired, but I was wondering if you could be back here in the morning for a line up?"

"A line up?" Brooke asked uncertainly.

Detective Juarez smiled, "Could be I have a suspect in custody right now. Got picked up last night on a traffic violation. He had outstanding warrants for several counts and his fingerprints match several found on various crime scenes."

"What kind of crime scenes?" I asked, not sure I wanted to know.

"Rape."

Brooke and I exchanged glances. The detective nodded at us, "See you two in the morning then?"

We affirmed and waited for them to leave before even looking at each other. I opened my arms for her immediately and she fell into them without hesitation. I could feel the exhaustion in every muscle of her body. I held her for ten minutes before there was a light knock at the door. We turned to see Haley coming in, followed by Nathan.

Haley gasped as she took in Brooke's bruises and I could see Nathan's hands clinch into fists. As Haley went straight to Brooke I hugged Nathan and felt how tense he was. I shook my head at him silently pleading with him to check his anger. I knew Brooke couldn't handle an angry man in the room.

"What the hell happened?" Haley finally asked.

Brooke looked at me and then back to Haley, "Victoria."

"Brooke?" Haley's voice softened at the realization at what had probably been done to Brooke. "Brooke were you…?"

My heart cracked again and again as Brooke nodded softly and couldn't stop a tear from escaping. I could tell that Haley wanted to verbally go off, but she maintained her calmness and simply wrapped her arms around Brooke and hugged her gently.

"Whatever you need, we're here," she stated so sincerely. Nathan nodded but kept his distance from Brooke. Brooke looked thankful and I was proud that Nathan had the sensitivity to know what Brooke did or did not need.

I got down to business, "Did you bring the card with you?"

Nathan's voice was solid, "We just handed it to Detective Juarez on the way in. I think they're listening to it now."

"Good," Brooke whispered.

The room was awkwardly silent, for what could any of us say? I shrugged and looked at Haley and Nathan, "It's getting late, why don't you two go ahead and go home and I'll call you when we get done here."

"That's a good idea," Haley reluctantly stated, "But you better call us."

"We will," I agreed, "And we'll fill you in on everything, later."

As they were leaving, Detective Martin and Detective Juarez re-entered the room, "Looks like we've got more than enough to bring Victoria Davis in, and if we can catch the bastard that did this to you, then maybe he'll turn on her and we'll have her for this as well."

With that we were dismissed until the morning. We stepped into the night and silently drove home. As we entered the river house, we were surprised to find it was untouched, not ransacked. We had both agreed that Victoria would probably hit that next. But she hadn't and our home was safe.

I sat on the couch and let Brooke sink into me. Her nightmare would be coming to an end soon and the unfortunate reality of it all would be starting. I was not looking forward to the long recovery to come, but I was looking forward to helping her through it. I loved her, my sweet, sad, scared, Brooke Davis.


	16. And nowthis

16.

I was restless for lack of a better word. I had spent the majority of the night watching Brooke sleeping on the couch caught somewhere between a nightmare and hell. But she was sleeping, so I let her sleep. I removed myself from the living room and stepped out onto the balcony facing the river. The air was cool and fresh, but it did nothing to ease the sickening feeling in my soul.

I could feel a breakdown coming. I could feel the pent up emotions fighting their way to the surface. I'd been strong for Brooke. I could be nothing else for her, because I loved her. I would be anything for her.

It started with tears. Simple tears as I thought about the atrocious crimes perpetrated against my best friend, the love of my life. I thought about how many times I should have told her how I felt. I thought about how I promised not to let anything bad happen to her again and I failed. And so tears fell.

And then tears gave way to my entire body shaking in sobs. I had no idea I was so tired and so full of sadness and anger. Had Victoria been in front of me at that moment I would have killed her with my bare hands.

My shaking body brought me, quite literally, to my knees. I found I could no longer stand. I fell to my knees on the balcony, my head resting against the railing facing that beautiful strong currents of the river. I would have screamed but I didn't want Brooke to see me faltering. I wanted her to know that I would not let her down again.

And despite my ability to stop myself from screaming, I could not stop myself from breaking down. Pictures of Brooke, helpless, hopeless burned into my mind. I hated the rest of the world. Hated people who could ever let something like this happen to such a beautiful girl.

And then my heart stopped as I heard the scuffle of feet stop behind me. Everything stopped, the sobs, the shaking, the hating. Only fear settled into my entire body. I turned my head slowly to see a pair of mens size 11 shoes.

I followed from the legs up to the face and was shocked to see kind blue eyes staring back at me.

"Lucas?"

There he was, that sensitive look in his eyes, the one that told me everything about him.

He sat down beside me on the wood of the balcony and pulled me into his arms, "Nathan told me everything."

"Everything?" I wondered if Nathan knew everything.

I felt him nod against the top of my head, "Enough to know that you and Brooke need all the support you can get. I just came by to tell you that I'm here for you, and for her."

"Does Lindsay know you're here?" I had to ask.

He sighed, "Yeah. She wanted to come too, but I told her it would be better if I came alone. I knew Brooke might need some space right now."

I pulled away and wiped a tear. I stared up into his face for a moment and realized there were absolutely no romantic feelings there. Not one. The only feelings were gratefulness for his timing and his friendship. I knew he would be an asset for Brooke's recovery.

"Thank you, Luke. For being here at exactly the right time. You always knew how to…"

"Save you?" Lucas finished my sentence.

"Yeah," I exhaled slowly.

Lucas stood and pulled me up with him. I walked to the sliding glass door and could see Brooke still tossing and turning on the couch. My hand floated instinctively to the glass as though touching her image would calm her.

Luke stepped closer behind me and I could smell his cologne, "I had to save you, Peyton. I had to save you so you could be the one to save her."

My breath caught in my throat, the air stripped from my lungs. Did he know? Could he? I turned to him and saw the kindest, most gentle smile I had ever seen in my life. Of course he knew.

"Don't look surprised, Pey. It's always been you and Brooke. I was just the intruder. It's why things were always so messy and confusing for all of us back in high school. You two couldn't figure out what it was you wanted. And I always wanted you to see. I thought you would figure it out when I proposed to you and you said no. It's always been her for you. I can't believe it took you so long to get that."

I moved quickly to him and buried my head in his chest, "Thank you Luke. Thank you for understanding."

We parted and he tipped my chin up with the tip of his finger, "Anything you two need, you let me know. And if I catch you breaking down alone again, I'll tell Haley on you."

I actually chuckled at that and he turned to go. He looked back at me one more time, "I'm serious Peyton. Anything you two need, Lindsay and I are here for you."

"Tell Lindsay I said thank you and I'll let you guys know," my voice was filled with doubt as I spoke the words. I thought about Lindsay and I knew that any woman who had a heart in her would feel Brooke's pain and want to help. I knew if she had offered help then she was truly sincere.

Luke was looking at me still. I nodded my head at him, "I promise. If we need something I'll call you…both of you."

He smiled and went on his way. I heard his car start and then drive away. I was alone again with the darkness and the river. The darkness, the river and a blood curdling scream from inside the house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The hands on my throat were gone and all that was left was the pulse of my pounding heart working its way through my neck. I could hear the scream still in my ears and quickly realized it had been mine. My hand searched for Peyton's and couldn't find it. In my nightmare fog I panicked as I realized she wasn't there.

My heart beat even faster as hands wrapped around me but I quickly realized from the scent of her hair that it was Peyton. I sank deeply into her arms and that's when I smelled the cologne. I pulled away and looked at her inquisitively.

She looked at me so sweetly and confirmed my suspicions, "Lucas was here. He found me on the balcony."

"What did he want?" For some reason the jealousy inside of me outweighed the fear and disgust of the previous few days. It was that moment I knew beyond a doubt that I had a lot of fight left in me.

She smiled mysteriously, "Just to tell me that Nathan had told him everything that had been going on and that he and Lindsay were here for you if you needed anything."

"I can't believe Nathan told them. Now they're going to be looking at me with pity and I don't want that." I couldn't help it.

Peyton shook her head, "No they won't. Would you look at anyone with pity if this happened to them?"

I shook my head no. But then again it hadn't happened to anyone else. It had happened to me, "Did you…when he was here, were you…"

Peyton sighed, "Conflicted?"

I nodded yes, I wanted to know if there were any feelings left there.

She shrugged, "Only when he told me that he knew you and I belonged together and always had and that he had proposed to me back when only to get me to say no and admit to myself that I was in love with you."

My chin fell slightly before I closed my mouth again, "So…he knows?"

Peyton grinned slightly, "Seems the whole world knew before we did."

We fell into a comfortable silence sitting next to one another on the couch before I looked at her. I really looked at her. I noticed that her face was stained with tears. Why had she been on the balcony? Was she out there crying alone? I knew then that Peyton was bravest girl I knew. She stayed strong for me although she was just as sad and scared as I was.

I gripped her hand in my own, "Thank you P. Sawyer."

She frowned, "For what?"

"For being there for me. For not letting me go, for being so strong for me. I love you for that."

"It's my job, and my privilege."

And I knew she was completely sincere. She pulled me off the couch and led me up the stairs. We lay down on the bed and she held me until we both drifted into sleep. Real, solid, restful sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lindsay waited patiently for Lucas to return from Brooke and Peyton's house. As he entered through the door she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Did you see them? Were they okay?" Lindsay's voice was filled with sincere worry and concern for two girls she barely knew.

Lucas smoothed out her hair, "I saw Peyton. Brooke was sleeping."

"And?"

Lucas shook her head, "Peyton's not holding up so well, so I imagine Brooke's even worse off. When I got there, Peyton was having a breakdown by herself on the balcony."

Lindsay covered her mouth with her hands and then slowly dropped them, "God help them."

"Maybe sometime in the future when things are getting better you can help them."

Lindsay shook her head, "I don't think…"

"Lindsay, you've been through this. Don't you know that if they talk to someone who survived then maybe…maybe it'll help?"

Lindsay nodded both hopeful that she might be able to help the two girls, and doubtful they would care. But she would try. She had to.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Haley sat in a lounge chair by the pool staring up at the stars. Unshed tears shimmered on the rims of her eyes. Nathan stepped into the darkness and sat in a chair near his wife. He looked at her and knew they were both feeling helpless.

"I keep thinking about that away game you had when there was a fight and Brooke hurt her foot. Somehow Brooke, Peyton and I ended up driving an under the influence Brooke home. It was the first time Peyton and I really talked and I think it was the day we became friends. And I got to know Peyton that night. Really know her. And I knew then that she was extremely protective of her friends. I remember her warning me what an ass you were."

Nathan smiled at his wife, "I was an ass."

Haley nodded, "Yes you were. She looked after Brooke and me, and everyone. I remember listening to music incredibly loud and just being young and having fun."

"And now…this."

"Yeah, and now, this."

"They'll get through this Hales, we'll help them. All of us."

Haley nodded, "I know, Nathan, it's just that…Brooke's eyes tonight. They were so full of pain and shame and fear. I'll never get used to seeing her that way. She's a different Brooke."

Nathan shook her head, "She's the same Brooke. She's just going through something horrible and she needs our help to remind her who she is and that what happened to her doesn't change her goodness."

Haley entwined her hand with Nathan's, "How'd you get to be so sensitive and smart?"

"I married you. I guess it rubs off."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The alarm was a rude awakening, but not nearly as rude as the bright sun streaming through the window. I cleared the sleepy haze from my eyes and sought out Brooke with my eyes. I could hear the water from the shower running and I wondered how she had managed to get unclothed and in there with no help.

I thought about the day ahead of us. A morning of tremendous proportions loomed ahead like a storm on the horizon. A vocal lineup at the police station. Brooke would possibly identify the man behind the pain. And then maybe, just maybe the woman who caused Brooke to doubt her very being would pay for everything she had done.

I got up and looked out the window at the boats and barges passing by on the river. It was a strangely beautiful day. I heard Brooke clear her throat. I turned and saw her standing at the bathroom door, her hands gripping an oversized towel against her small frame. Her hair dangled at her shoulders still dripping slightly.

I saw an overwhelming sadness in her eyes as she spoke, "I need help."

I nodded and was at her side in a second. We both stepped back into the bathroom and I took in the sight of all her bruises as she lowered the towel. I began to wrap her ribcage as I had been instructed to do by Dr. Powell. She winced several times and I knew that today the pain would be worse than any other day. Some bruises were beginning to yellow, others were only beginning to show. After I wrapped her ribs I helped her with her clothes and kissed her softly on the forehead.

"I love you Brooke. Never forget that. Not for one second."

She nodded and placed a hand on my cheek, "I love you too Peyton. I know it seems impossible, but I'm not going to break. I promise. I might breakdown, but I will not break. You're here with me. It's all I ever wanted…all I ever needed. I wouldn't shut down now for anything."

Our early morning at home finished with an untouched breakfast. We climbed into the Comet and steered toward the police station. Neither of us knew how this day would end up, but we were hopeful, even, dare I say it, expecting it to be a victory. Little did we know…


	17. It's Like Therapy

17.

The room was dark, as Peyton and I waited for the detectives to call for the lineup. My hands ached from the fists they had formed at my sides. It was the only thing I could do to keep them from shaking uncontrollably.

I could feel Peyton's soft touch on the small of my back. It steadied and comforted me. Men began to walk out onto a platform behind the glass in front of us. I was almost too afraid to look but I knew I had to do it. I looked up into the six faces looking back at me. I knew they were looking at a mirror and it was a one-way glass on our side, but I still feared being seen.

I looked at the six unfamiliar faces, my stomach lurching with the thought of the lips that had invaded mine. Their hands were cuffed in front of them. Hands. Which hands belonged to the man who had bruised me so badly.

Detective Juarez spoke through the microphone, "Number 2, step forward and say, 'Have a good night.'"

The man with tattoos on his neck did as the detective asked. The voice was unfamiliar and not very frightening despite the surly build of his body. She looked at me and I shook my head no. My eyes kept wandering to number 4. He was muscular, free of tattoos, and looked as though he hadn't bathed in a week. His medium length hair was greasy looking and there was something about the snarl permanently plastered on his face.

I knew it was him. I felt dizzy as I looked at his hands. I could barely find my voice as I whispered to Peyton more so than Detective Juarez.

"It's him," they looked at me questioningly. I looked to the detective, "Number 4. It's him. His mouth…it's the same…that scowl."

"Are you sure?" They both asked me. I had never been so sure of anything in my life. I nodded to Detective Juarez and she went to the intercom microphone again.

"Number 4 please step forward and repeat the same thing."

Number 4 shuffled forward and I could feel his eyes piercing through the glass. He spoke the words, and I felt like I was thrown back to a few nights ago. I steadied myself with Peyton's help. I nodded an affirmative response to Detective Juarez. She nodded back to me already understanding how sure I was.

I was allowed to leave the room with Peyton and we went to an interrogation room to wait for the detectives. Peyton sat next to me and held me close. The lineup had gone by faster than I thought it had. It was the waiting for the detectives to question him in depth that seemed to take forever. An hour and a half, two packs of crackers, and one Dr. Pepper later, they came into the room.

Peyton threw our snack garbage in the trash can and returned to sit very close to me, which made me feel safe and as though I would never be alone again. We waited for the two detectives to sit down. It was Detective Martin who led the conversation this time.

"We got him, Brooke. He's already pleading it out with his attorney and the District Attorney."

Peyton looked a little more uncertain than I did, "Are you sure? It seems a little quick doesn't it?"

He nodded at us and shrugged, "It would be unusual accept we'd already nailed this guy on several other cases using DNA. Your eyewitness testimony sealed the deal. His attorney and the DA were just waiting in the wings to see if you identified him. And you did."

He looked at me as though he were proud of me and that made me sit somewhat straighter. Peyton smiled at me as I glanced at her and I knew she was proud of me too. I exhaled slowly.

I was afraid to ask, since everything had been going so smoothly, "What about my mother?"

Detective Juarez smile softly, "We sent a unit after her an hour ago. He turned on her almost immediately hoping it would help his case. He sang like the proverbial canary."

I wasn't sure if I could be remotely happy about that. I wanted to be wrong. I wanted to be severely misguided in thinking my mother had anything to do with me being brutally beaten and raped. But I had been right from the moment he came in my store.

"You two can go home and rest up. It's going to be a long process over the next month or so," Detective Martin said. "For the next few weeks there's nothing more you can do."

"Then what will our roles be?" Peyton asked.

"You'll be witnesses on the stand if Victoria Davis pleads not guilty."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I looked at Brooke's face as Detective Martin answered my question. She paled at the idea of going up against her mother in a courtroom. All the childhood memories, all the horrible things she had ever been through will be put on audible display for anyone who dared to sit in the courtroom.

Brooke was strong. Stronger than even she knew, and I knew she would make it. She had to. We thanked the detectives and I took my very exhausted girl's hand and led her out of the room. As we turned the corner and headed down another hall, we came face to face with an extremely angry Victoria Davis in handcuffs. She had black ink on her fingers and a scowl on her face. Her normally perfectly coiffed hair was in a disarray.

"Damn you Brooke!" She sneered at her daughter.

Brooke's face was stoic if nothing else. She said nothing as Victoria shook her cuffed fists at her, "I can't believe you would go through with this. I can't believe you would turn on me so viciously."

Brooke laughed at the irony, and then her voice filled with disgust, "You can't believe? Look at my face mother. Look at my eyes. Look at what you've done. I turned on you? You turned on me and then turned an animal on me. I used to think because of what you let happen that I was a monster. I was pretty, but I was a monster. That's what I called myself because that's what one of those men you took money from called me…a 'beautiful monster.' But now I know the truth. I feel it in my soul for the first time in my life. You're the monster, Mother. You're the monster. But you're not beautiful. You're ugly. You are the ugliest, most hateful bitch I have ever had the misfortune to know and I hope you find out in prison what it's like to be me."

And then Brooke led me, stunned face and all, down the hall and out of the police station. I was so impressed with her fire and her strength I stopped her at the door and hugged her fiercely. I knew she would find her way back to being the rock she had always been.

We held hands as we walked to the car. I felt as though the hard part was both beginning and ending. Maybe I knew that a trial would be a different kind of difficult. Brooke's hand wrapped tighter around mine and I looked up at the Comet. Our friends were gathered around it. Nathan, Haley, Skills, Mouth, Millie, Lucas, and Lindsay were there waiting for us.

"What the…?" Brooke's whispered sentiment matched my thoughts exactly.

"Moral support?" It was the only explanation I could offer.

As we got closer, Haley stepped forward, always the spokeswoman of our gang, "We were here to make sure you two were okay and to see if perhaps we could all take you to breakfast. We understand if you don't feel up to it of course."

Skills scoffed, "I won't understand. Who doesn't want to have breakfast with the hottest dude in Tree Hill?"

It felt good to hear Brooke laugh. And she did, at Skills. It was a brief release but good nonetheless. I looked at Brooke letting her set the day. She nodded at me and I answered yes. I think Brooke didn't trust her voice, her emotions, or herself. It had been a tough morning despite the positive outcome.

I noticed Lindsay's expression as she looked at Brooke and then me. I gave her a wholehearted smile and when she smiled back, I knew she ran deeper than I had given her credit for. Haley and Nathan got into the Comet with us. Brooke slid in close to me in the front and Haley sat next to her leaving Nathan alone in the backseat.

I followed Lucas' car to wherever we would be eating breakfast. Soon we pulled into Haley and Nathan's driveway. I smiled at Haley's sensitivity. She knew Brooke didn't need a public location, just good food and friends.

I could tell from the trembling emanating from Brooke that she was terrified that someone would look down on her now that they all knew exactly what she had been through, then and now. As we all sat around the dining room table each person acted the way they always had. They were being sensitive to the situation but not acting as though someone had died.

I watched as Brooke visibly relaxed. She was surrounded by people who loved her and would protect her. She even graciously accepted a glass of orange juice from Lindsay and again I noticed a look from the blonde and it resembled familiarity, perhaps even complete understanding for what Brooke had been through.

I let it pass out of my mind as I concentrated on the beautiful girl sitting closely to my right. She looked at me with her bruised hazel eyes and flashed me a soft, sad smile. I knew as thankful as she was she'd rather be home with me, alone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

I actually ate. I ate bacon and eggs and grits. I never eat grits…but I ate grits. After the breakfast, or brunch, I excused myself from the table to use the restroom. Haley, Skills, Millie, and Mouth had been sitting around talking after the meal and I couldn't see the point of a lot of small talk, so I left the room to find Peyton. She had gently squeezed my arm thirty minutes earlier to excuse herself as well.

I found her arguing with Lucas and Nathan in the living room. They looked up to find me watching them curiously. I heard Peyton say, "We can handle everything without this."

I hadn't caught why they had been arguing, just that they had been. I looked to Peyton for shrugged and threw her glance back at Nathan and Lucas, "They want us to have this gun."

She held up the shiny, black revolver with a look of exasperation. Wow, that was pretty extreme, but then again, so was what had been done to me. I shook my head no, "Peyton's right, the immediate threat is done, and we can handle the rest without accidentally killing one another, but I really appreciate you two looking out for us."

Peyton smirked sarcastically at the boys. They simply nodded and put the gun back in its wooden case. I left them to the rest of their conversation and continued through the living room. I glanced out the patio door and saw Lindsay sitting by the pool with her feet in the water.

I was curious. She had been giving me strange vibes the entire morning and it wasn't something that scared me, only intrigued me. I closed the door softly behind me and sat next to her.

"Brooke?" She looked up surprised to see me with my shoes off sitting next to her. I slid my feet into the water and flashed the only smile I could muster. It wasn't much. She looked as though she were the one about to cry.

"It was getting kind of suffocating in there, so I…"

She nodded as though I didn't really have to explain, "I know what you mean."

She never took her eyes off the water, as though she was afraid to see the bruises that covered me. She and I were friends. We had never shared the tense standoffishness that she and Peyton had. We had become quick acquaintances and even faster friends. It was nothing like Haley and me, and certainly nowhere near like Peyton and me, but still, we had shared things.

I closed my eyes and felt the sun warm my face. It would have pleasant but I was suddenly inundated with flashes of the attack. I gasped and opened my eyes welcoming the bright light of day. Lindsay's hand was covering mine and her eyes were piercing my soul.

"Those will stop eventually," she whispered.

I looked at her shocked at what she had said, "You…how do you…?"

She let go of my hand as though contact was too much, "My freshman year of college. I was taking a shortcut through the quad late at night. I had been to a frat party and was on my way home…I was ambushed and dragged into the bushes."

My ears were surely deceiving me. Lindsay was too put-together, too confident and friendly and unafraid to have been through this, wasn't she?

"It took me a few years to be as comfortable with the world as I was before, but I got there. I'm forever changed because of it, but sometimes things come out better. It makes you stronger, a fighter. You were already a fighter Brooke Davis…you'll survive this. I promise."

And with that, she left me sitting by the pool alone with more questions. I knew it must have been too much for her to tell me that, but I also knew that she would be there if I needed her or if Peyton needed her.

A few more minutes passed before the door slid open and closed again. I glanced up to see Mouth coming my way. I felt no fear with Mouth. He had always been the kindest boy I had ever known. He sat a few feet from me, not wanting to invade my space and I adored his compassion.

"You okay Brooke?" Mouth looked so serious.

I shook my head no, "I'm not, Mouth, and I might not be for a while, but you have to know that I plan to be, someday."

"That's what I like to hear," he sighed.

"How are things with Millie?" I had to change the subject before I hyperventilated.

Mouth flashed me that famous McFadden grin, "I'm going to ask her to marry me."

I was genuinely happy for him, "Oh Mouth, that's wonderful."

I wanted to hug him and kiss him on the cheek, but I was so afraid to move. I knew Mouth, I knew he would never hurt me, not in a million years, but still, I was afraid.

"Thank you," he said as he looked down at his hands. I knew that none of my friends really wanted to see my face in its present state. I couldn't blame them. I didn't want to see myself. The only person who really made eye contact with me and saw past the bruises was Peyton.

"Millie's a great girl, Mouth. You two will be very happy," I meant it sincerely but for some reason my voice sounded bittersweet.

Mouth looked up at me, "Brooke, you'll find happiness too. I mean, maybe you won't be ready to anytime not soon, but someday you'll find someone and he'll be all the things you need him to be."

I was surprised at his words. I thought everyone knew about me and Peyton as well as about what had happened to me. Apparently only Lucas was aware. He looked at me, "Did I say something wrong?"

Before I could tell him no, Peyton came through the sliding glass door and slipped off her shoes. Mouth watched her sit very close to me slipping her feet into the cool water. She looked from Mouth to me and shrugged, "What did I miss?"

I slid my hand into hers and looked at Mouth, "I've already found someone, Mouth. And SHE'S everything I need."

His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. Peyton blushed very slightly under the scrutiny but held my hand just a little tighter. For several long seconds he was silent. Then as the idea of Peyton and I being together settled in his brain, he began to smile.

"Then I'm happy for both of you," His voice held the truth of his words. I knew Mouth was truly happy for us. I leaned my head on Peyton's shoulder and felt the fatigue take me over. I yawned and Peyton nodded.

"Okay, B. Davis. I'm getting you out of here and taking you home for a nap."

I didn't argue. I was ready to go home despite the kindness of my friends. Peyton stood first having to help pull me up. My ribs and bruises protested but I ignored the pain and let Peyton wrap her arm around my shoulders.

We said goodbye to our friends and I gave Lindsay a hug, and whispered into her ear, "Thank you."

She nodded and quickly swiped at some tears, "You call me anytime, Brooke."

Peyton overheard the whispered exchange and glanced at me questioningly. I gave her the "I'll tell you later" look. I could hear the murmurs behind us as the door closed. The ride home was quiet and I felt like I needed to put my thoughts into words. I knew though that spoken words would simply not do. I thought about the book I had found. The one filled with poetry from my childhood. All the horrible nightmarish things I had worked through on the pages of that journal.

I didn't say much to Peyton as I climbed the stairs and left her looking up at me, somewhat lost. I might have hurt her feelings, though not intentionally

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She didn't say anything as she ascended the stairs. I knew she wasn't mad at me and that nothing had been wrong between us because she had rested her head on my shoulder the whole way home. I assumed she needed some space. Just some time to decompress from the events of the day so far. And I hoped she would take a nap.

I sat down on the couch feeling quite weary myself. The soft fabric of the cushions beneath me lulled me into a state of secure slumber. I wasn't aware I had fallen asleep until almost two hours later when I heard a noise behind me in the kitchen.

My eyes opened to find the green and white crocheted blanket covering most of me. I heard Brooke's apologetic voice, "I'm so sorry Peyton. I was trying to let you sleep. It's always when you're trying to be the quietest that you make the most noise."

How true was that? I smiled at her knowing how rumpled and sleepy headed I must look, "I'm sorry I fell asleep."

Brooke frowned, "Sorry? Why should you be sorry, Peyton? You need sleep too, doofus. Besides, I couldn't sleep so I watched you."

She seemed almost playful and I almost blushed at the thought of her watching me sleep. I stood up and stretched, "What were you looking for?"

She took a minute to answer and I knew she was trying to decide if she should tell the truth. Finally two simple words fell from her lips, "A lighter."

"We don't smoke."

She rolled her eyes at me, "I know that. But we do have candles. What do we use to light them?"

I nodded and opened the drawer in the sofa table. I pulled out a lighter and handed it to her. I watched as she walked out onto the balcony with it.

I followed her as she knelt down by the small clay fire pit that stood on the balcony. She handed me a piece of paper with the instructions to read it. I quickly realized that I was holding several pages to her journal. Written on the paper were several of her poems she had written as a child.

"Brooke," my throat was thick with the realization that she couldn't burn these no matter how cathartic it would be. "You can't burn these."

Her hazel eyes dances with the flames she had started in the pit, "Why not?"

I cleared my throat not wanting to stop the progress she was trying to make, but knowing it could be considered crucial, "What if…what if they're needed."

"Needed?" Brooke wasn't sure where I was going. "Needed for what?"

"They said we should get ready for the trial. What if these would help?"

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, "Okay. You got me there. Then you take them and hide them away. Keep them safe. Meanwhile, this one I just wrote, we can burn."

She handed me another sheet of the journal, "It's like therapy."

I wondered for a mere second when Brooke would agree to actually go to a therapist, but I brushed the thought away as I realized she was trying to deal with things the best way she could. I looked at the poem in my hand. Her handwriting was beautifully displayed across the sheet. I looked to her eyes, wondering if I could read it. She simply tilted her head to confirm my request. And so I read it.

_**Look out into darkness, where you merely tread on fear**_

_**Grasp onto nothing, when everything falls unclear**_

_**Because nothing is darkness and darkness is pain**_

_**And when you have nothing you've got everything to gain**_

_**So scream into echoes of years gone away**_

_**And look into deception because it's all here to stay**_

_**Nothing, darkness, deception, echoes**_

_**Too bad it doesn't matter when no one knows.**_

"What is this one called," I asked her as my heart filled with sadness for her.

She shrugged, "Here to Stay."

She watched me as I took the lighter to the page and set the flaming page in the pit. It burned quickly and she sighed. She handed me another piece of paper.

"I wrote this one while I watched you sleep. Don't burn it, please, unless it totally sucks."

I nodded, curious as to why this one was different. I unfolded it and soaked in the words, my soul soaring.

_**I was in the dark for far too long, trying to make a right from the wrong**_

_**Holding on to anything near, trying to make everything clear.**_

_**You brought me toward the light, calling my name and fighting my fight.**_

_**It was you in my darkest night that pulled me toward the light**_

_**I sit now by the water, sun in my eyes, and my conscience is free of lies**_

_**You lift me up with your endless love, and it's the light you remind me of**_

_**I'm feeling the peace that you brought, I'm oddly uplifted by the war we've fought**_

_**You held my hand and lifted my chin, and it's your light I'm standing in.**_

__The tears fell despite me trying not to cry. I looked up into her eyes and asked, "That was beautiful Brooke."

"It's for you of course. You can keep it if you want."

"I will," I folded it and slid it into my back pocket, "I know just where I'll keep it too."

I stood up and grabbed Brooke's hand, "Come with me, I need to show you something."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Peyton led me by the hand to her room. I pondered briefly what we would change this room into once she moved fully into the master bedroom with me.

"A home office," Peyton smiled up at me. She had been reading my mind.

"What?" I asked not sure I heard her right.

Peyton grinned as she knelt down by her bed, "I saw the way you were looking around. I know you better than I know myself, Brooke. You were wondering what we were going to do with this room, right?"

I nodded at her amazed by her intuition, "Yeah, I just…I mean, I didn't mean to assume."

My voice must have been a little more uncertain and self-conscious than I meant it to because she stopped reaching under the bed and looked up at me. Her beautiful porcelain-skinned face turned serious.

"You didn't assume anything, Brooke. The only way I wouldn't move into your room with you is if you asked me not to."

I smirked, "Well, that's not going to happen."

"Good," Peyton's frown disappeared as suddenly as it had come. She pulled out a decorated pink hat box from under the bed.

When she patted the floor next to her, I sat down. Every muscle and bruise on my body ached in protest, but I managed to not let the pain show. Once I was settled on the floor, she proudly lifted the lid off the box.

I looked inside before she could pull anything out. I saw various souvenirs from our history together. She began to pull objects out. There were pictures of the two of us from picture booths. Ticket stubs from movies we had been to. A napkin from a wedding we had crashed when we were 16. There were school notes from middle school, and printed email messages. Peyton blushed as she saw me staring so intently at everything.

"Kind of weird, right?" She asked me.

I shook my head furiously, "Hell no. It's nor weird, Peyton. It's…it's the sweetest, most…it's the most special thing anyone's ever done. You are…I love you."

And with that I began to cry. Peyton wrapped her arms around me and simply, quietly held me. I know it was a mix of emotions and exhaustion, and it had finally gotten to me. Peyton never let go of me as she guided me to the bed. There she held me until I fell asleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She was peacefully asleep. No signs of nightmares were etched on her face. I thought about slipping away and getting together something for dinner, but I didn't want to leave her side. I simply watched her sleep, as she had watched me.

I thought about the morning and afternoon. Little had we known had victorious we would be. I was satisfied with the image of Victoria Davis in handcuffs. I was proud of Brooke and the things she had said to her mother. I was proud of all of our friends being there for Brooke. Even Lucas and Nathan, in their misguided attempt to protect us, were being strong for us. It was obvious that Lindsay even had something to add to Brooke's well-being.

I imagined the months ahead, the trial, life in general, and I wondered how long recovery took. I wondered how often she would break down. How often would she scream out in the middle of the night? How many times would she grab my hand in fear? I knew it didn't matter, because even if it all happened a million times a day, for a million days, I would be there. I would never leave her side, ever.


	18. She thinks I'm beautiful

Author's Note: FINALLY!!! An update…actually this is the last chapter for Beautiful Monster. That's right…the end. Now I can work on Mountain Creek and whatever new thing happens to pop into my head.  Wish me luck! Reviews always welcome. -Jill

18.

I could feel my heart beat against my ribs. Each thump solidly landing against the inner wall of my chest. I wanted to breathe deeply but could only manage a shallow, shuddered inhalation. I was staring straight into the eyes of the man that raped me. Every single second of that night assailed me again and again as he stared back at me with an evil, unmerciful leer. He was sitting in handcuffs to the side of the courtroom. He was going to testify after I was through. Somehow we were both on the same side and were going to bring down Victoria Davis.

As I looked at him further, I knew no matter what common goal we had, I could never and would never be thankful to him, for anything. He had copped a plea. He had agreed to testify against Victoria in exchange for a few years off of his sentence. I was angry for that. I had scars that would never leave my body and nightmares that would never leave my mind, but this animal, this monster; he would have freedom in a few years.

I searched the courtroom for Peyton and found her face among friends behind the prosecutor's table. She glanced quickly from me to my attacker and back again. A shake of her head and a softening of her face encouraged me to continue. I didn't care that Haley and Lindsay were both there as well. I was happy, however, that the men in my life had decided to sit this day out.

It was the day we had dreaded, Peyton and I. The day when I would have to tell the court exactly what had been done to me and in sickening detail so that the jury would understand exactly what Victoria Davis had set me up for. I glanced to the defendant's table and felt the hatred rise. I held more contempt and anger for my mother than I did for the man who had beaten and assaulted me.

"Ms. Davis, can you tell me what happened after your assailant knocked you to the ground?

And so I told the DA, and the courtroom, and mostly I kept my eyes on my mother's face and I made sure I told her every disgusting detail. And I know she heard me. I saw her face turn pale when I mentioned being bitten, and the amount of pain involved in the entire ordeal.

And after two hours of testimony, the defense attorney wanted to have his turn to question me. We broke for recess and I was both grateful and angered. I didn't want to be at the part of the trial where I was the one being accused of God knows what. But I was ready to get it over with.

Peyton was the first person I reached after the DA thanked me and told me to stay strong. I stayed strong for six very long steps, the amount of space it took me to reach Peyton's arms and sink into them. I felt Haley's and Lindsay's hands on my shoulders and I knew I was safe with them as well.

Peyton and I walked silently to the diner down the street from the courthouse. I ordered water and a toasted ham and cheese on wheat. I wasn't really hungry, but I knew I would need the strength for what was to come.

"You did a really good job up there, B. Davis."

I shrugged and it suddenly struck me how much I hated my last name. I looked to the counter, where some customers were having a tough time making up their minds about what to order. I looked back at Peyton and frowned.

"Don't call me that anymore."

My tone must have been harsher than I had intended, because Peyton's face fell into a heartbroken expression. She looked down at the egg salad sandwich that was being placed in front of her and I could tell she was trying to decide if she offended me by saying it or if the name offended me. I knew I had to help her out.

"It's just…the last name…I don't want to share anything with my parents. Especially my last name."

I could tell Peyton was made sadder by that revelation but also looked relieved, "I can understand that I think. Will you change your last name?"

God I was in a really bad mood, "I have no idea."

Peyton placed her napkin down on her food. It was something she had done a lot in the last few months. She was barely eating and I found it remarkable that I had an actual appetite. It had been three months since the attack in the store, and I was feeling healthier. My mother was about to be in prison for the monsters she had sent after me, then and now.

Peyton was wise and left that subject alone, and I was glad when she changed the subject.

"Haley and Lindsay will be back in the courtroom when it reconvenes."

I nodded, feeling less than normal, "It's so Law and Order, isn't it?"

Peyton exhaled and took a sip of her sweet tea, "Brooke. What are you feeling right now?"

"Pissed off," I answered honestly.

Peyton nodded and took my hand from across the table. She knew I wasn't angry with her. She knew I was just angry in general. The soft touch of her hand felt good against my cold skin. I knew there were stages to recovery and I had been living in the angry stage for about a month. Peyton had seen me running hot and cold every day. I was surprised she was still with me.

The thought of her leaving brought my whole angry world to a crashing stop. I looked up at her, tears in my eyes, biting my lower lip. She smiled softly at me and I knew she wouldn't leave, no matter how rude I was or how often I pushed her away, she would be strong and she would stay. Wouldn't she?

"Peyton, I'm sorry."

I didn't mean for my voice to be so low and scared, but it was.

"Brooke," Her voice was filled with concern and confusion, "What could you possibly be sorry about?"

I sighed, "For being such a bitch lately."

Peyton's shoulders visibly relaxed, "Seriously? Brooke? You do know that you have every right to be angry at the world right now, right?"

"Not the world Peyton, only those two in the courtroom."

Peyton shook her head. I suddenly saw some culpability in her eyes that I hadn't noticed before. She looked down at her untouched food and back up at me, "You could be angry with me, too. We both know that I should have been with you at the store that night. I should have insisted on being there."

I was shocked and dismayed that the thought had ever crossed Peyton's mind, because I had never for one millisecond ever thought about blaming Peyton Sawyer and I told her that as we sat in the ever-growing crowd of the diner. She looked like she believed me and I was relieved when she held her chin a little higher as she guided me out onto the sidewalk.

We held hands and remained wordless as we walked back to the courthouse. I didn't want to continue this day. Peyton and I both knew what kind of things could be dragged up in the courtroom. I was by no means an innocent teenager and despite trying to turn my life around in my young adulthood, the past would always come back to haunt me.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The audience in the courtroom got quiet as Brooke took the stand again. I was flanked on both sides by Haley and Lindsay. It was comforting to have them sitting with me, but I didn't want them to look at Brooke with judgment of any sort. I knew Haley never would, but there was a lot I still didn't know about Lindsay.

"Ms. Davis, I need to remind you that you're still under oath."

Brooke flinched as the judge said her last name, "Yes sir your honor, I understand."

The judge motioned for Mr. Harmon, the defense attorney to begin. I saw a shiver run across Brooke's body as the defense attorney approached. He had a vicious stare and a thin angry-looking mouth. Brooke looked uncomfortable, and frankly, scared.

"Ms. Davis," he used her last name and I was beginning to hate it too, simply because it made her feel bad about herself, "Is it true that you were quite promiscuous in high school?"

Brooke paled and my teeth grinded into one another, but she remained stoic, "Yes, it's true."

The defense attorney paused, not expecting such honesty. When he continued, he went for the jugular, "So then it stands to reason that you're still promiscuous, doesn't it?"

Brooke shook her head, "No, it doesn't stand to reason, Mr. Harmon. I realized a long time ago that being promiscuous was not the way I wanted to live my life."

Brooke had found favor with the jury. How could she not? She was beautiful and intelligent, honest and identifiable. People could find parts of their lives in Brooke's. Mr. Harmon quickly abandoned the path he had been on. Instead he reached in deep and pulled out the big guns.

"Ms. Davis, you're accusing your mother of accepting money from business partners in order to let them have sex with you as a child, aren't you?"

Brooke looked like she was going to throw up, "She did let them, and she did take money from them."

"So, you want to see her punished for that?" I could see where he was heading, but Brooke couldn't.

She nodded, "Yes. She should be punished for the crimes she committed."

"So, maybe you made up this so-called rape together with your boyfriend over there, so she would have to go to jail."

Son of a bitch. I watched as the anger flashed across Brooke's face and I prayed quickly that she would be able to hold it in. She glanced from Mr. Harmon to the rapist and back again. She took a deep breath and then looked at me. I silently pleaded with her to remain calm.

"Mr. Harmon, your theory is wrong. I haven't made up anything and the physical evidence proves it," Her voice was even and soft. Thank God.

Mr. Harmon's eyes widened with satisfaction, "Ah, yes, the so-called physical evidence. Why did you have a rape exam outside of Tree Hill, Ms. Davis?"

"I was scared, and my friend just drove. It's where we ended up."

"Your friend? Peyton Sawyer, right?"

Brooke nodded and looked at me again, "Yes, that's right."

"She's your best friend?"

"She is."

"She would do anything for you, wouldn't she?" He asked her.

Brooke nodded, "She would, Mr. Harmon, but she wouldn't lie for me, which is where you're trying to go with this isn't it?"

"Your honor please instruct Ms. Davis to answer the questions with yes or no, and not to add her own statements unless she is asked for them."

The judge shrugged, "She seems to be doing fine by me."

I smiled as the jury chuckled. The case was so serious that the momentary lack of seriousness did everyone some good. We had all heard testimony from Dr. Powell who described in detail every mark and bruise Brooke had had. She explained the trauma to each part of Brooke's body. The jury had grimaced with each detail and I had cried.

We had to look at the pictures and we had the testimony of Brooke. The tearful, pained testimony of the lost girl. God I loved her so much. And when the defense attorney was finished with her, we would adjourn for the night and then the next morning would come the most damning testimony for Victoria Davis. Brooke's rapist, the man Victoria hired, would explain in detail what he had been instructed to do.

For another hour and a half Mr. Harmon tried to shake and rattle Brooke, but with truth on her side nothing seemed to break her. I was so proud of her and I knew she would be exhausted when we got home. The last question came and she answered it with pride, honesty, and stoicism. I had never seen someone so strong in my whole life.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I was starving by the time Peyton opened the door to our house. I mentioned it to Peyton and she grinned, "I'm so glad you said that."

"Why?" I asked suspiciously.

"Well," Peyton motioned toward the dining room. The table was set and food was warm and ready. There were salads, baked potatoes, and bread.

Nathan and Luke came in from the balcony. Nathan had a plate of two steaks in his hand.

Luke grinned as he saw us, "Oh, great timing! We just took the steaks off the grill. Cooked to order."

Nathan nodded and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. In the past few months he had been the only male I was comfortable enough with to let him do that.

"And now we're going to get out of here," Nathan said as he and Luke made their way toward the door.

Peyton grinned, "Bye guys!"

The door shut with no further adieu and she turned to me, "Will steaks be okay?"

I nodded and before I sat down I hugged Peyton tightly. She returned the gesture and then we sat down to eat. I knew the night would probably bring nightmares and other various tortures, but at least I had Peyton.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

I was watching Brooke sleep when her cell phone began to ring. It was just after 2am and the sound startled me. I quickly grabbed it from her nightstand in hopes of not waking Brooke. No such luck. Her eyes fluttered open as I answered the phone.

"She's here, hang on."

I handed her the phone with a shrug and a look of concern. She took it cautiously as she sat up in the bed.

"No sir, that's okay. Yes sir. She did? Really? That's so…unexpected. So it's over? Okay. So now what?"

She listened intently as I waited as patiently as possible to hear what was going on. She finally thanked the person on the phone and turned to me with an expression of relief.

"Who was it?" I finally asked, the patience wearing thin.

She looked at her phone lost in thought, "That was the DA."

My heart sank, "What did he say?"

"My…" She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "Victoria pled guilty."

"What?" I couldn't believe my ears.

"Apparently she pled guilty. She told them that she had done all of it. From when I was…" The tears fell quickly down Brooke's face as her pent up emotions finally were set free. "She told them that she had taken money from those men. She told them that she had hired that animal to come after me. She admitted to everything. She's going straight to prison."

I took her into my arms and allowed her some time to process everything. I still couldn't believe it. Why would Victoria give up? Why would she allow her daughter a chance to overcome it all when she had held her down her whole life? While I tried to imagine some twisted evil ulterior motive from Bitch-toria, I couldn't fathom one.

Brooke was trembling against me and I could feel three months of fear and rage and panic and self-loathing escaping her body. She leaned into me and I could feel her arms tighten around me waist. She was hanging on for dear life.

I kissed the top of her head and smoothed out her hair. She looked up at me with gorgeous hazel eyes and pressed her lips against mine. I kissed her back. One thing could have led to another, but the exhaustion in her eyes, the utter relief in her face, it made me want to simply hold her. And that's what I did. She fell asleep to the rhythm of our heartbeats. The face of tomorrow no longer looked grim and threatening. It now was hopeful.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

TWO MONTHS LATER

Her dress was beautiful. But of course I thought so, I had designed it. Her long hair was perfectly coiffed and her groom was handsome and smiling. Peyton and I sat next to one another in the church. Her hand grazed mine and I looked into the most loving eyes I had ever had the good fortune to see.

I had to tear my eyes from hers so I could take in the appearance of our friends…our family. Haley was the Maid of Honor and Nathan was Best Man, both looked like something right out of a magazine. Skills and Jamie were also standing as witnesses to the ceremony at hand. Lucas and Lindsay were getting married.

I looked to Peyton to see any signs of regret or dismay, but I saw only happiness and love. Love for me. I thought about my scars and I thought about my nightmares. Both had faded in visibility, but were still reminders of that night, reminders of my mother's hate. I remembered the journey. All of it, and despite how hard it was, despite the pain and the fear, Peyton had been there with me through it all.

XXXXXXXXX

She wore a beautiful black dress. Her brown hair smelled of strawberry. Her hazel eyes were filled with the beginnings of rebuilt confidence. She was my Brooke. She was my beautiful Brooke and sitting here watching our ex-boyfriend get married to Lindsay, I was happier than I had ever been, because I knew that all things, good and bad, happen for reasons that we don't always understand.

So maybe, just maybe, Brooke could find reason in the horrible things she had been through. And when she did, I would be there with her, for her, forever.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I've dreamt of the past at times, of my childhood, but there was something different in the dreams now. There was a beautiful face there to pull me out of the darkness at the end of each terrible memory. It was Peyton. In recent weeks we had grown together. Peyton made me realize when I looked in the mirror that there was no monster there. Just me. And Peyton thinks I'm beautiful.

The end


End file.
